Graded on a Curve: Bunnygrunt, Vol. 4

St. Louis, MO-based Bunnygrunt was but one component in the avalanche of indie that transpired in the early-‘90s. Often branded as a practitioner of twee, since reforming in 2003 they’ve cultivated a heavier yet still highly melodic sound. Their new album Vol. 4 does underscore a decidedly ‘90s approach to format; not only is it available on vinyl, but the CD and cassette double the number of tracks with eight bonus selections. It’s out now via the Happy Happy Birthday To Me label.

Matt Harnish and Karen Ried formed Bunnygrunt in 1993 with Wally Schwartz on bass. Rene Dullum took over for Schwartz, but she too was out before the release of the band’s full-length debut, ‘95’s Action Pants! Dullum was replaced by Jen Wolfe, who stayed through a steady stream of singles and ‘98’s follow-up Jen-Fi. Having toured the country a half-dozen times, Bunnygrunt culminated their initial five-year existence after visiting Japan for gigs.

On first go round Bunnygrunt regularly got tagged as a precious proposition, a circumstance not necessarily inaccurate or unfair as early tunes “Criminal Boy” and “I Just Had Broken-Heart Surgery, Love Won’t Pass Me by Again” did register significantly on the cute-meter. But in their defense Bunnygrunt wasn’t calculatingly shambolic and frequently landed nearer to sunshine pop. Indeed, Jen-Fi’s 15 entries totaled just a tad over a half hour as they explored elements of punk and indie pop.

Harnish and Ried reignited the group in the early Aughts, in part due to the inclusion of their ditty “Season’s Freaklings” on the soundtrack to Terry Zwigoff’s Bad Santa; there was also In the Valley of Lonesome Phil, a 21-cut comp of old stuff and rarities issued on The Bert Dax Cavalcade of Stars, a label run by Harnish.

Lauren Trull stuck around on bass until ’05. After her departure, Eric Von Damage stepped in to play drums as numerous guests assisted for live shows and on recordings; alongside a spate of 45s and an EP, Karen Hater’s Club emerged in 2005 and Matt Harnish and Other Delights in ’09, both discs defining changes in temperament. While Bunnygrunt aren’t likely to get signed to Southern Lord, they do rock harder since recommencement.

They’ve kept their sense of humor, though; Vol. 4 extends its cover motif with a very familiar cough at the outset. And except for a short chant of its title near song’s end, the LP’s opener “Gimmie Five Bucks” is an instrumental brandishing extroverted guitar work residing halfway between power pop and the stadium with a little crisp strumming thrown in for balance; unashamedly leaning toward the anthemic, it’s modestly scaled a la indie pop tradition and chalks up a mere fifty seconds in duration.

Just as the lobes are getting acclimated it’s done. Maybe frustrating, but it’s preferable to leave the listener wanting more rather than checking their watch, a mode of operation that’s served Bunnygrunt well from the outset. “Gimmie Five Bucks” leads directly into the Ried-sung full-bodied guitar-based pop-rock of “Just like Old Times,” a slim (under two minutes) and energetic scenario that could easily satisfy partisans of Bomp!

Ried stays at the microphone for “Open My Eyes,” which speeds by in less than 90 seconds but still manages to feel fully-formed, roaring with intensity closer to the Fastbacks than any kind of twee action. But if fancying the short song Bunnygrunt hasn’t spurned their history of stretching out, the entire second side of Action Pants! consisting of the 12 minute-long “Open Up and Say Oblina.”

Harnish saunters to the mic-stand for “Chunt Bump,” a seven minute affair completing Vol. 4’s first side, though the track’s strong suit is the prolonged passage of guitar and strings (courtesy of The Rats & People Motion Picture Orchestra) shaping its latter portion. The flip settles into four tunes tackling relative pop-rock norms in terms of length and structure, with “The Book That I Wrote” a catchy punkish mover.

As said, Bunnygrunt haven’t really sacrificed their lack of seriousness, but overall Vol. 4’s humor resonates as a mite less jokey than on the last two albums. “I Quit, Mr. White” continues to put the pedal down and is followed by a stomping live cover of “Frankie is a Killer” by St. Louis predecessors The Dinosaurs, said band’s departed singer/bassist Bob Reuter guesting on vocals.

It delivers a classy standout reinforcing Bunnygrunt’s rekindled activity as basically stemming from simple desires; to make some records, play a few gigs (the Athens Popfest for instance), and have a good time. In this sense, the punk-boogie of “Still Chooglin’ (After All These Beers)” closes Vol. 4’s lean vinyl incarnation on a high note.

The CD/tape bonuses keep the energy flowing, though the majority if not all of the supplementary material seems to derive from prior 45 and EPs. For two examples, the nicely layered distortion of “Young Abe Lincoln” and the Ried-fronted raucousness of “He’s About a Leaver” helped shape the 2012 “Lady, You Just Got Von Damaged” 7-inch on Pancake Productions.

A few more: the riffy and loquacious college town bar rock (with accordion finale) of “Led it Out” comprised one side of a split with an outfit named The Winchester, while the pogo-launching “1000% Not Creepy” and the achy strum-pop nugget “Where Eagles Dare Part II” (no, not the Misfits) hearken back to a ’07 EP on the UK label WeePOP!

Additionally, the ukulele chestnut “Tonight You Belong to Me” gets dusted off and enveloped in 78rpm shellac surface noise, “Carmelita” emerges in a spiffy treatment sung by Ried that smartly retains Warren Zevon’s original reference to the pawning-off of a Smith Corona, and the sprightly version of the Red Pony Clocks’ narrative of rock ‘n’ roll struggle “Don’t Forget Who Your Friends Are” provides the finish.

It may not offer a moment as deliriously rocking as Matt Harnish and Other Delights’ “S. Kingshighway Bubblegum Factory,” but Vol. 4’s trim running-time is solid from beginning to end, the pleasure in its making discernible and infectious. Bunnygrunt’s latest is a sweet little platter as accomplished as it is non-pro, a series of minor jabs accumulating into a hearty wallop.

GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-

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  • SUPPORTING YOUR LOCAL INDIE SHOPS SINCE 2007


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