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Oakland, Calif.'s Actionslacks seem perfectly content crafting their jangly, John Hughes-inspired anthems amidst the millennial panic of what to do about rock. Some bands look to the past for answers, wholly ingesting the Stooges' Funhouse or the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Others migrate towards the cold, digital undercurrents of post-song Indie Rock (see: Tortoise). Actionslacks' only acknowledgement that any dichotomy exists is an augmenting of the band's skinny-tie love of the Jam with strings and well-placed piano bits. To be sure, the current result is subtler, more personal songcraft than their earlier efforts. But longtime 'slacks fans need not fret -- safely overdriven guitar angularities and white anti-grooves, as well as Tim Scanlin's sandy croon and lyrical penchant for the Topsider Tragedy remain dutifully intact. As long as the smell of slight is in the air (e.g. the dance after the high school football game), Actionslacks will be there to capture the moment.
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