Roadshows

Head of the class
Certain albums–and, if they’re lucky, certain bands–so skillfully present both influence and intent that they come to stand for an entire genre. The Wrens sum up (deep breath) American post-punk rock the same way in which XTC can serve as the Cliff Notes for turn-of-the-’80s Brit power pop, or the Cucumbers represent the horrors of the mid-’80s indie scene.

Listening to Secaucus, the Wrens’ latest release, is a long look through the ever-lengthening list of contemporary rock ‘n’ roll influences, presented with enough originality and character that they come off as referenced, not reproduced. A lick or progression might catch your attention or tickle your memory, but in a way that makes you realize that the New Jersey quartet has listened to the same music as, say, Tom Petty–not just copped one of his riffs.

The band owes its success to two strong suits: first, a sense of melody that evades many similar bands, strong enough to push through the chop and chatter of an unabashedly guitar-led style (nonetheless, the band remains gleefully unafraid of noise); and second, the Wrens enjoy a uniquely cohesive history that lends the songwriting weight and unity. All the members–guitarist Charles Bissell, drummer Jerome McDowell, and brothers Greg (guitar) and Kevin (vocals) Whelan–are friends, cooperative enough to have lived in the same house together for four years.

Of course, after their first gig in 1990–as the “house” band on the Cape May Ferry, playing to senior citizens shuttling between New Jersey and New York–anything else would seem a piece of cake. They hung in there, through “getting ourselves fired from practically every place you can play in South Jersey,” Mac Dowell once told a home-state weekly. In 1994 they made their first album, the well-received Silver.

The promise of Silver–especially the smart, sure songwriting–is more than met by Seacaucus: Pointed punkery, Beatlemania, and the Beach Boys all collide under the steel-gray skies of New Jersey; the lyrics croon, rant, and simmer with rage in turn as the Wrens–an overlooked treasure–skillfully examine life and love in the ’90s.

–Matt Weitz

The Wrens play the Argo in Denton July 27.