Appearing as if out of the dusky, late-afternoon shadows of downtown Los Angeles, post-punk noir outfit
the Buttertones have built a loyal fan base amalgamating wild-eyed surf twang, punky dance-rock grooves, cool '50s pulp novel imagery, and a yearning, '80s guitar jangle. They bring all of these touchstones to bear on their brilliantly moody fifth studio album, 2020's
Jazzhound. Once again working with producer
Jonny Bell (who produced their equally engaging 2018 album
Midnight in a Moonless Dream),
the Buttertones coalesce their blue-toned sound with songs that balance their strong conceptual skills with lyrical hooks and perfectly executed arrangements. At the core of their sound is lead singer/songwriter
Richard Araiza, who grounds each song with his broad baritone, evoking a dreamlike combination of
Scott Walker,
Joy Division's
Ian Curtis, and French crooner
Jacques Brel. It's a mood that also brings to mind
Morrissey's early work with
the Smiths, an influence
the Buttertones nicely evoke throughout
Jazzhound, especially on the sparkling guitar-and-synth balladry of "Fade Away Gently" and the driving arpeggiated kineticism of "Dirty Apartment." Other equally evocative influences abound, as on the funky "Rise and Shine," which vividly draws upon
Orange Juice's loungey post-punk rhythms, punctuating them with a guttural, soulful baritone sax solo from
London Guzman that sounds like it was culled straight from
David Bowie's
Black Tie White Noise. Elsewhere, they dig into their manic surf-rock riffs on the opening "Phantom Eyes," the
Dick Dale-esque "Velour," and the propulsive, tube-amp-soaked "Bebop," the latter of which brings to mind the late-'70s art-punk of
James Chance. While it's easy to sink back into the crepuscular rock ambiance of
the Buttertones' sound, there's also a poetic, transcendental quality to
Araiza's lyrics that lends these songs an added emotional heft. On "Denial You Win Again," he sings, "This feeling in my gut continues to grow/Have I been this man the whole time?/A chess game in my mind/I look away." It's that kind of cinematic introspection on
Jazzhound that grabs you by the lapels and won't let you turn away. ~ Matt Collar