:: RedHotHalos ::

The Swearing at Motorists live show is like nothing you've ever seen before. Just two ugly men, and there's not sonic room for another. Guitarist/vocalist Dave Doughman is a maniac, leaping and contorting and constantly engaging the crowd: Arena-ized theactics at even the smallest of clubs. Performing in front of an Ohio state flag (168 times in 2002, he says), the Dayton native continually pays homage to his home. Mixing power chords, blistering solos and witty stage banter, this record-collector geek musically pays homage to his heroes, a list which no doubt includes Alex Chilton, Pete Townshend, Paul Westerberg, and fellow Daytonian Robert Pollard. And Doughman's drummer's job? Keep the pounding rock beat and get the hell out of the way.

Unlike the concert experience, on record, Swearing at Motorists mixes it up a bit. The drummer's always in the background, and sometimes he's not there at all. This lends itself to a bit more introspection and a lot more sonic variation than the live incarnation. Not necessarily better, but different.

Doughman opens Swearing at Motorists' fourth full-length, This Flag Signals Goodbye, with a burst of vocals seemingly uttered through a CB radio. But the initial (15-second) impression is deceiving, as guitarist/vocalist Doughman, drummer Joseph Slwinski and producer Brian McTear unleash a set of 14 pristinely-produced, straightforward rock numbers.

A Note about Grades: Grades are applied on a "traditional" academic grading scale. A grade of C (which is average, mind you) will roughly correspond to a 7.5 on a 10-point scale. A grade of A+ will roughly correspond to a 9.8 and will (hopefully) be reserved for the extraordinary. And if you don't like it, eat me.

Doughman's delivery runs the gamut on This Flag Signals Goodbye: a somber speak-sing on "Borrowed Red Bike," a melodic howl on "Over the Middle Bridge," his best Pete Yorn impression (is it too early to call something a Pete Yorn impression?) on the title cut. McTear often double-tracks Doughman's strangely endearing vocals throughout the album.

Lyrically, all you need to know is in the song titles---"Doors are Closing," "Room Full of You," "Losing Mine"---much of this record is devoted to heartbreak. And Doughman does prove himself a strong wordsmith, sprinkling equal parts imagery ("a picture of you upside down on my dash") and emotion ("when you hand me my heart what did you think i'd say?").

Doughman comes up with some of the better moments of 2002 on This Flag Signals Goodbye. The title track's sincerity and despair - an unanswered 4 a.m. phone tells our hero to get lost - equals the emotional weight of Ryan Adams' best (that is to say, earlier) work. "Losing Mine" takes a stupid, classic lyric - "All I want for Christmas is you" - and makes it sound fresh, and "(It Came) Out of Nowhere" is an ode not to a former lover, but to a former bandmate who's gone family man. Despair of a different kind. Not unlike Wilco's SummerTeeth, This Flag Signals Goodbye keeps up the poppy pace despite the somber subject.

An exception is "Borrowed Red Bike," a slow track about wandering the city drunk and looking for one's lost love. Stripped down and sad for the first two minutes, it explodes into a beautiiful guitar-driven instrumental before quickly fading away; it's probably the album's finest track.

This Flag Signals Goodbye only loses points because, quite frankly, it's all been done before. We've heard from the lovelorn rock troubador countless times and, while Doughman's good, he's not good enough to truly stand out. Also, while the 30-minute running time keeps listeners on their toes, it also leaves the listener wanting more.

But, then again, that's the first rule of performing, isn't it?

All in all, a very solid effort.