It is fair to say that Tasmania’s Verticoli make a glorious racket. And I mean that in the very best of ways. Anyone can make a noise; throw a folk band down a flight of stairs, and they make a noise, but you can’t dance to it. Hussman’s Dictionary of Rock and Roll Terminology, which I have just made up to prove a point, defines a “glorious racket” as “the ability to fashion bombastic and intrusive sounds into melodic, boogiesome form.” And that is exactly what Vericoli does across the ten tracks that make up The Echo.
They are certainly masters of the big riff, the sonic suckerpunch, the grand groove, blending muscle with melody as they go to produce songs that are both big…and I mean big…and infectious.
“Undercover” kicks things off with a fast-paced blend of an almost pop contagion and raw, grunge weight, slightly reminiscent of the sort of thing that Nirvana used to do so well. “Hits of the Summer” uses space and staccato slashes of guitar and depth-charge bass bombs to create the perfect impact. “True Love” happens when you write at a ballad pace but aren’t prepared to compromise on sonic weight, a slow start interspersed with a grunge-punk interlude, which eventually takes over the song. And the title track, which takes the album over the finish line, can only be called epic. No other words will do.
Some bands have the riffs but not the power. Some have the punch but not the melody. Some have a few great songs on an album balanced out with filler. Verticoli has everything, and The Echo is back-to-back rock music of the finest pedigree.
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