Trans Am

The protocol for a so-called post-rock show like this one almost demands that the crowd avoid any overt or spontaneous signs of enjoyment while the music is playing. Between bursts of song-ending applause, audience members should stand still, ineptly imitating mannequins in the window of a Salvation Army thrift shop,...

By Michael Azre

November 29, 2001

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The protocol for a so-called post-rock show like this one almost demands that the crowd avoid any overt or spontaneous signs of enjoyment while the music is playing. Between bursts of song-ending applause, audience members should stand still, ineptly imitating mannequins in the window of a Salvation Army thrift shop, but nodding their heads occasionally in what looks like the act of chewing a particularly firm piece of gum. But behavior like this misses the point of a band like Trans Am: The worn-out forms of rock, especially those of the muscle-car-driving variety, are not only still fun, but awfully funny.

It's a point the Maryland trio has proven on its last five albums, as well as on its latest effort, Double Exposure, a split release with San Francisco's The Fucking Champs. Dubbed the TransChamps, the amalgam finds snarling enjoyment in the act of raving up the cliché of guitar-dominated '80s rock bands such as Rush and Iron Maiden. Trans Am's music, however, doesn't get held up by this red light of the past; as with its Thrill Jockey labelmates Mouse on Mars and Tortoise, the group uses both outmoded and modern electronic elements to put together its soundscapes. The prog-rock and kraut-rock loftiness is there, and so is the precision playing. Thankfully, the pretension is completely absent.

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