Formerly named Fuck It, We’ll Make Our Own Helicopter (the one from Saskatoon, not Philly. The Philly one won the lawsuit, then became I Can Make A Whole Row Of Thirteen Year Old Girls Cry Until Their Shirts Are See-Through), Egghead is three loveable dopes. Okay, not dopes. That’s not fair. Dorks. Geeks. Nerds. The ones that get shit done. The ones that are now being productive members of society after college, just like Revenge of the Nerds promised. And although I’m going to say pop punk™, then take it back, and put it back in like the hokey pokey, it’s all true. 1.) Egghead are pop punk in the fact that they play punk rock that’s poppy. (Like catchy Flag Of Democracy.) The two main vocalists, John and Johnny, have prototypical pop punk voices. Sorta whiney. Sorta snotty. Sorta strained. “Good/not-really-good” voices, like Ramones not-really-good, not Genesis/Styx/Tarkus “good.” Their voices, up in the mix, may be a hurdle for some. 2.) Egghead aren’t pop punk™, in the sense of the diminishing returns pop punk™’s been seeing the last ten years, where instead of bands only capable of replicating a single Ramones song for their entire catalog, far too many pop punk™ bands are now doing that to either Screeching Weasel or the Queers. Egghead’s focus is too far broad for such tracing paper chicanery. I scoured this thing. No bubblegum references. Sure, there are songs about girls, but the predominant one has the refrain “My daughter can fuck up your daughter.” 3.) Egghead, really, are pop punk in the rich history of Stiff Little Fingers, The Dickies, and a suburban-parenting version of Sloppy Seconds. They mix in speed and style shifts of a band that couldn’t care less about the fragile, ephemeral, ever-smaller boxes pop punk™ seems more than happy to squeeze into these-a-days. It’d also be safe to say that fans of The Dead Milkmen and the bright spots in Camper Van Beethoven’s catalog will find a lot to like in Egghead. I’m definitely a fan.
–todd (Knock Knock)