September 26, 2002 -
Any new CD from The Dopes is a cause for dancing in the streets, and with
the release of their fifth album, *Cloud Ten,* on JetSpeed Records, the
Petoskey/Traverse-based band has issued its most commercially-accessible
offering yet with 11 hard-driving songs that combine the frenetic mastery of
their instruments (think rattlesnakes dancing with firecrackers) with a
sophisticated pop sound.
In their 10 years together, The Dopes have always offered dance music that
gets crowds on their feet from the first whipcrack issued by
vocalist/guitarist Joe McCarthy, guitarist/vocalist Mark Camp, bassist Roy
Truax and drummer Travis Harret. On their new CD, we hear more of their
songwriting talents coming to the fore in terms of melody and vocals,
including some of their best from other releases, such as "Rockstar" (a '90s
take on paeans such as "So You Want to Be A Rock & Roll Star" by The Byrds).
In the pantheon of modern rock, The Dopes might rub elbows with the likes of
Everclear, the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Sugar Ray, with a similar mix of
irony, sensuality and wit married to a runaway nail gun delivery that plays
well on college radio.
The Dopes rachet that mix several notches higher with their intense fusion
of postmodern musical styles. Just as wines are described by their subtle
flavorings and bouquets ranging from chocolate to blackberries, so too do
The Dopes serve up a pinot noir flavored with ska, polka, island, funk and
western swing music -- without too much of any genre overwhelming the
imbiber. Fans of "serious" music (whatever that is) will be challenged to
identify strains and phrases interstitching The Dopes' music with everything
from the drawl of the high plains to calypso's pinging resonance. And, at
times the excellence of their vocals compare with those of the Beach Boys on
this album.
Plus, they're pretty damned funny and sexy in a way that moves with a fast
shuffle on "Fireball" ("She gets what she wants, she's a little fireball"),
"Trampoline" and "Beer Cart Girl." Like most serious songwriters, The Dopes
have profound things to say, yet they deliver their message in an offhand
way, like a cherry bomb in a mailbox, before speeding on to the next
address.
Gripes? The Dopes live up to their name when it comes to marketing their
music. There's a (very) good looking nude in the liner notes, but no song
list (?) or lyrics, just a paragraph of thank-yous to local friends that
makes the band look parochial and clubby, as in a big frog in a small pond
w-a-y up in Northern Michigan. The Dopes have a nice website, but if you set
your search engine to find them, you'll run into another band by the same
name.
As mentioned before in the Express, the biggest mystery about The Dopes is,
why aren't they a national touring band? Why aren't they on the air from
Laguna to Lauderdale? They're more musically gifted than Everclear and write
more intelligent songs than the Red Hot Chili Peppers, as a quick listen of
*Cloud Ten* will reveal. So, why not The Dopes? Maybe this disc will be the
one that kicks the band into gear in the nation's musical consciousness.
Downes is editor of Northern Express and
Express Weekly
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