I barely have a chance to ask the only question of the interview before Chantal Claret, Morningwood's lead vocalist, a New York Girl fronting a New York Band and a Chick That Kicks Total Ass, launches a preemptive strike: "technically, Morningwood can ONLY rock HARD."
There IS no asking how. Morningwood just is and has always been fully-formed & wholly realized rock-and-roll.
And rock they do. Morningwood's self-titled debut album is a party. Not those squinty disaffected hip twinkling lounge parties with music you could shop to, but a full-on New York City tilt in the East Village that rages till dawn & the club kicks you out. And based on the band name it promises to be *that* kind of party if you play your cards right.
Self-described as "a monster truck rally having tantric sex with a Bond girl," Morningwood bring it tight & loud. They flex between poppy new wave, clashes of electro, punk streaks, & swaggery arena rock. Their sound drops your jaw and has your senses asking you "are you f*cking kidding me?" with each zig and zag. And Gil Norton — whose work with the Pixies is legendary — preps the album for similar space travel with his unique sonic shine.
Morningwood's track list is the party before, during, and after you left (hopefully with that hot friend). "Babysitter" is a fantasy seduction you're powerless to stop. "Easy" preps for a "Toys in the Attic" takeoff then buzzes the tower incessantly, echoing "Hot For Teacher" chords (oh yes I'm hot oh yes I'm hot) then sticking the landing after its lean sweaty breakdown.
"Jetsetter" starts sugary then sucker punches with the bootstomp riffs of vintage Pixies. And "Nth Degree" launches a heroic squadron of new wave across the sky, bridged with a Speak-n-Spell sing along that somehow turns into a hot hookup in the stairwell of your Avenue C walkup.