Album Review: Wanda’s Bicycle

Bunchy’s Big Score is essentially Max White’s lo-fi passion project. He writes, sings and plays prominent organ parts all over their latest offering, Wanda’s Bicycle. Assisted by Jack Ingram on guitar, and Reef Brazendale on percussion, the Ōtepoti band explore alternative folk, rock n’ roll, indie ballads and elements of country.

As with their previous album, last year’s Happy Birthday, Daniel Johnston!!! Don’t Be Afraid… the songs oscillate between ironic and serious, personal and preposterous. There are moments of true tenderness and vulnerability amongst the comedic delivery of frantic rock songs and sing-a-longs. Throughout the recording, made at Southlink Studios with Nick Roughan, the influences of Pavement (and Stephen Malkmus’ solo career) feature significantly. The band sounds like they are fans of The Moldy Peaches and New Zealand’s Flight of The Conchords and Goodshirt too (although it could be their use of retro sounding Casio keyboards). The album is eclectic and fun, although the strong kiwi accent might put some people off and by the end of the album you’ve either become a fan or you’ve grown tired of certain strong vowels.

The album begins cinematically with Jeremy Cricket which suddenly explodes after a tension inducing introduction with the lines “you’re raging all the time!” The song is positive, affirming, joyful and a perfect way to showcase the range the band can produce. The lyrics are irreverent in their surrealism (“Jeremy Cricket / you’d be a good excuse / To move to London / And take a shower”) and this might simultaneously put the listener at ease (thinking that no serious issues are going to be covered) or concerned (that the album could move thematically into uncharted territory). Both assumptions would be wrong, as this odd collection of songs explores genuine heartfelt emotion but also remains safely within certain confines of the subgenre of lo-fi rock.

Things get rowdy with second track The Sound and The Fury with a guitar sound not too dissimilar from Shihad’s Gimme Gimme. This song is frantic and features spoken-word (‘I’m a victim of European delicacies!’) and two crazy solos back to back, first a Hammond organ one and then a barely decipherable guitar one. It should go down a treat live. The album moves into more pop-orientated territory with single I Don’t Want to Dance, a ballad that builds to a victorious chorus, but the lyrics here are personal in their awkward honesty: “Searching for nothing in the bigger picture…” Quasimodo is even more softly spoken and remains that way throughout with White singing softly and closely into the mic as the band supports him with fragile instrumentation as he sings quirky lines such as “Like a boy in a ring with his gloves on his feet / And when you’re standing in line to see the undertaker / You’re thinking, what did it mean to live for yourself?”

The rock returns on Bad Things Could Happen, an absolute banger of a track that could really get some dancing happening at a live venue. While the song itself could be described as 50’s-inspired honky-tonk rock n’ roll. Oscar Says, another single, is an indie rock gem constructed around a crunchy guitar sound that erupts into a catchy chorus and pop-orientated bridge that sounds vaguely like the Madness – it’s got a feverish, infectious bop. Nonetheless, the vocals have a nervous energy to them when White anxiously asks, “Would you describe me as unfortunate company?”

Next up is the album’s last single, You Are A Camera, a keyboard driven ditty with arrestingly cute lyrics: “when you look at me / Do you notice my glasses / Don’t sit straight on my face,” and catchy melodies throughout. There Goes My Head is another softly spoken ballad about unease in social situations: “There goes my head / Prisoner at a party with me and my likeness,” building toward a mantra-like message of letting go of apprehension with a hint of romantic complication.

Hey George! Let Me Live With You has some cool country vibes with some quick picking and a slide guitar part that builds up towards a nearly catastrophic finale not unlike The Beatles singalong Hey Jude. Old Iron continues with a slide toward country instruments with a slide guitar part higher in the mix almost sounding comedically like a Spongebob Squarepants credit roll. The lyrics here are melancholic and reflective: “Walking to the train with a red heels and her cold hands / She leaves one on the bench / If you want to know me hold me tightly”, but there is no conclusion to be found here, the uneasy emotion is explored, but not resolved: “And from the back of the train I can hear two people reciting the lines from some old tragedy.” This is a shame, perhaps, as the character that White generates is a good-natured yet misunderstood individual who means well but can’t admit or express his emotions.

The album closes on a full-on hootenanny knees-up with I’m Still Your Itch, another song that will get a room moving in the live setting. The lyrics might yet hint at a conclusion of sorts: “At the end of the day when time goes away and you’re lying on your face trying hard not to be / Remember the words that you read at the book and your eyes read and you didn’t want to know that I’m still your itch, I know it’s not good news…” but the sensation the album leaves the listener with is more of acceptance of life as it is, or even a type of surrender to fate. White pleads with the listener, his muse or his lover, whoever it is he is directing his intense admission to: “Whatever happens in this life, just please don’t forget me” and despite the upbeat tempo the song, and thus the album, ends with quite a forlorn touch.

The album oscillates wildly between jittery energy and confessional balladry. It’s quite a bicycle ride indeed. If you’re a fan of strong kiwi accents, irony, low-fidelity recordings and don’t mind most of the song lyrics beginning with their song title, then you should check out this album and the band when they are out on tour. Those more sceptical among us might criticize the singing voice, the generic nods to other music forms (rock n’ roll, country, synth-pop) but irony explains a lot and is quite forgiving. After a second listen to this album I feel similarly to how I react to Daniel Johnston album listens – with sympathy. There are probably more than enough fans of the genre or people who would like to see the spectacle of the band perform at a local venue to justify a tour but personally, I’m left with a feeling of unease – but maybe that’s the whole point! Interesting nonetheless!!