by Matt Watton (@brotinus)
Rat metaphors are rife in urban life: the urban rat race, the tiny, crowded apartment of the pack rat, getting caught in the rain and looking like a drowned rat, escaping to the suburbs like a rat fleeing a sinking ship... This rich rat imagery is fertile ground for Vancouver’s Pack Rat, who celebrate and lampoon this modern urban slog on Life’s A Trap. Originating as the solo project of Chain Whip’s Patrick McEachnie, the band’s second album feels like a fuller group effort, with essential contributions from two-thirds of Vancouver’s Brat Boy (Bella Bébê on guitar and co-lead vox, Tony Dallas on drums). In contrast to the hardcore-egg punk vibes of Chain Whip, Pack Rat feels more like a project band. That project is: what would the Ramones sound like if they were teleported from CBGB to the present-day gray climes of the Pacific Northwest? Pack Rat embodies a more classic approach to punk: big, ripping chords, mid-tempo, skittery guitars and drums, snide vocals, and out-of-tune but melodic solos. This is about as classic a version of punk rock as you can find in this day and age. Thirteen songs in 26 minutes: strap in, sister, you’re in for a ride.
Life’s A Trap comes at you like a broken sushi conveyor belt, with punk dish after punk dish speeding by, making it nearly impossible to come to grips with what you just got before the next platter arrives. Album opener “Heart Beat” is a thesis statement: a blaring guitar strum gives way to a syncopated, bouncy rhythm, with traded boy-girl vocals about the most classic of topics, young love. A wailing melodic solo (channeling X’s Billy Zoom) strains to keep pace with the speeding band, dragged forward by some ferocious drumming. At a minute-twenty, it’s over and we start up again with a new track. To call this power pop would be a disservice, but you can’t deny the songs’ infectiousness and ear for a catchy melody. At times the band taps into the kind of anthemic, rowdy spirit of 70s punk (“Can’t Stop”, “Electrified”). Other times, they’re making exasperated, indignant, mid-tempo rippers (“That’s That,” “I Know You Know”). Still other times they invite you to groove, sway, and pogo (“Neighbours”, “Ask A Punk”), but at every point the core message is: fun. Punk is for the kids, and Pack Rat lets us be a kid again.
The subject matter also taps into a kind of earlier punk ethos. McEachnie adopts a perfect punk posture in his vocal stylings, somewhat snide and bratty but also gruff and self-assured, as he sings about boredom and whatnot (“What I Need”). He pokes fun at the local music scene in “Ask A Punk,” where he sings as a snotty punk ripping on other, snottier punks (though this song must have been written a few years ago back when gigs only cost $10 CAD!). When Bella Bébê takes lead vocals, it’s a reminder that Phil Spector produced a Ramones album: she sings charming, cliched couplets about her crushes in “Sleepless” and “Pure Trash,” while Bébê and McEachnie trade vocals and harmonies on the cutesy and dancey “Two Makes One”. It’s refreshing to hear these kinds of punk songs – the band takes the music seriously without taking themselves too seriously, again recapturing an older punk ethos often missing in the scene.
While trading in old punk idioms and stylings, the songs are never boring or trite. They know just the right chord to change to, just the right time to stop and start, just the right insane drum fill to keep your attention locked in and keep things sounding fresh. The music is aggressive without being caustic or abrasive, melodic without being cheesy. Life’s A Trap is a welcome reminder that good, solid punk music is about having fun, tapping your toes, and singing along.