VietNam
VietNam

By Chris Pacifico

Having raked up some buzz for a minute now, Brooklyn’s own VietNam is breaking out with its long-awaited full-length debut. While a number of its Brooklyn brethren make music for stuffy art school hipsters, VietNam throws down skuzzy, seedy, greasy and sometimes twangy blues-laden post-punk druthers that touch base on topics like getting laid and stealing pills from rich girls’ medicine cabinets. These four shaggy dudes may seem like they’ve lived on a commune for most of their lives.

They also play like they’re from the Vietnam generation itself thanks in part to singer-guitarist Michael Gerner who not only sings with a voice that’s mature beyond his years but also makes it clear he’s smoked far too many cigarettes in his life. CCR meets the Velvet Underground on “The Priest, The Poet and the Pig” as the swampy roadhouse blues of “Apocalypse” is delivered like a booze-soaked, bastardized rendition of a torch ballad. Other delights include the benumbed “Gabe,” the gooey power pop barnburner “Hotel Riverview” and the Sticky Fingers-era Stones-inspired number “Too Tired.” Ultimately, VietNam is tantamount to a 50-minute long narcotics-fueled road trip to nowhere. But what a long strange trip it is.