Smash Mouth landed in 1998 with the somewhat forgivable “Walking On The Sun” thanks to a honking surf riff. Fronted by the belching larynx of Steve Harwell playing the token fat guy from every single 90s boy band, the double helix that is popular music’s timeline bottomed out allowing this lot to pad out our airwaves.
They were inescapable. Buy a bucket of fried chicken on your way to see an Adam Sandler movie, get a free Smash Mouth CD. Those were the days.
Since the dizzy heights of the Y2K confusion, things have been a little up and down in Smash Mouth land. They allegedly put out full albums in both 2003 and 2006, but no one noticed.
After all, Idol was in full swing worldwide and fuck knows we weren’t ready for X-Factor. Yet Smash Mouth are a determined, if blissfully demented bunch and return for no good reason with Magic.
This latest concoction to be spat out kicks off with less hope than Pussy Riot. “Perfect Planet” is without question the result of continuous blows to the skull as Harwell’s merciless tones opine his love of Nascar, beer, pool and dudes.
From there, right through to close there is only the glistening spikes at the bottom of the pit to look forward to. Career criminals never change and can’t resist going out with a bang. This time it’s the Simple Minds’ power ballad “Don’t You Forget About Me” turn gunned down in an act of cold blooded moider before a truce brings merciful silence.
Tears and pity aside, there is nothing lurking within this vat of sonic abortions that could ever redeem Smash Mouth for their crimes. While the Wheatuses of the world rode in on tainted coat tails, they eventually went away. It was the second wave of offence that would prove Smash Mouth’s legacy. Without Smash Mouth, there is no Nickelback.
– Ciarán Wilcox
