British Columbian indie rockers Hot Hot Heat drop their eponymous final record, an open farewell to fans as the group bows out from the show. The delectable spark that spiraled them to fame flickers bits of sing-alongs and numbers in a tired wave goodbye. With the urgency gone and contemporaries falling off the map, the album is bittersweet collection of songs that are fully focused on making their own transition outwards.
“Kid Who Stays in the Picture” warbles in peculiar synth undertones on indie rock crunches for an opener that sounds strangely sad. As vocalist Steve Bays sings emphatically, “I might as well say what you mean to me.” As the background fears of the future chant repeatedly in “Modern Mind” the uppity pop sensibility of Hot Hot Heat feels just as danceable in their early years, making you wonder why more folks don’t know about these Canadian indie rockers. Six years between records is quite some time for any band, which feels especially bittersweet as Bay and company muse “too little too late” when you realize that this brief half hour of power will in fact be their final outing.
It really is a shame hearing news like that for an artist you love. I mean just listen to “Bobby Joan Sex Tape” and try not singing along with the boys – they’ve been touring round, singing their hearts out the past 17 years! Perhaps that’s why “Magnitude” feels a bit more sad than it ought to. It is rather endearing to hear the little ditty of a love song like this one of theirs. “What am I supposed to do anyway?” I don’t know, Steve. I just don’t know. Part of their whimsical charm is pretty much every song of Hot Hot Heat could have come from any given record of theirs. “Mayor Of The City” sounds just as fresh and fancy fun as their first, their last and the couple of those in between.
The “Alaskan Midnight Sun” jumps about in quirky samba-like rhythms and the collection, the aptly self-titled album named after the band, works it’s magic like a final farewell to all the diehards. This is Hot Hot Heat, or at least for a little bit more. Though it seems as if the boys are pretty self-aware of themselves and intend on going out on a high note as Bay contends, “I’ll do what I’ve got to do, say what I’ve got to say but to me it’s not a comeback if they don’t come back.” With all the distorted synth warbles offered up in the odd moping about of “Sad Sad Situation” that comes across, the boyish charms of not getting that one phone call plays timelessly. Except time keeps moving and the band is moving on.
“The memory’s here, it won’t fade away now.” Well said, and sung even in the oddly driving chant of a verse that makes up the majority of the song. For all the weirdness the song lets out, this would make an epic set opener – too bad it’s the closing act. One nicely done swan song, Hot Hot Heat. Nicely done.