The Peels are pure rock in a world that seems to have forgotten what rock and roll is. Despite the “The” that precedes their name, they are not garage rock, or nu-new wave, or whatever the latest fad is. They are rock, plain and simple.
The album’s opener, “Only Son,” begins with perhaps the most clichéd of rock intros: a steady bass, followed by a steady beat, and then a simple guitar riff. Yet as soon as lead vocalist Robyn Miller’s husky voice enters to complete the quartet, we know we’re in for an album of tried and true, good ol’ rock and roll.
This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. However, if you’re hungry for something new and exciting, don’t waste your time with the album. This is an old, old theme that’s been done countless times over. What is exciting is Robyn Miller’s entrance into the music world. She has the staying power that the music itself lacks.
It is impossible to discuss the Peels without marveling over Miller’s voice. Love it or hate it, her strong pipes become the focal point of this band, perhaps creating an uneven ground for the other members. Her voice commands so much attention, the guitars are forgettable, the drums easily replaceable. The Peels is all about Robyn. Which is why this mediocre, otherwise forgettable album will not be easily forgotten.
The Peels debut self-titled disc is short and sweet, playing like a quick live rock show at a local venue; loud and not entirely polished, but after the forty minutes, you’re intrigued, on the lookout for more.
The thing with the Peels is that there isn’t really any more. The rest of the album follows the same format as “Only Son.” It all sounds familiar even on the first listen.
The Peels’ self-titled debut attests to their sex, drugs, rock and roll philosophy. The music is straight-ahead rock, no messing. Keep an eye out for this band— while I doubt the Peels will skyrocket to superstardom, something tells me that Robyn Miller will be around for some time to come, with or without the rest of the band.
