Despite its best efforts not to, the Trucks have fallen into the trap of music's misogyny. On its self-titled album, the Bellingham, Washington, band writes songs about sex with third-wave defiance but all anyone wants to talk about is how the Trucks are pretty girls with dirty mouths. It's a shame, as this attention to a few "racy" tracks leaves the rest of a great album out in the cold such as "Zombie" (a slower, rhythmically haunting track that asks, "If this is the end, will you die not dancing?") or "Messages," a more guitar-oriented song for anyone who's been in a relationship with someone who's emotionally available only via voicemail. "Old Bikes" also needs to not be lost in the shuffle, as this tinkling song combines cooing vocals with handclaps and schoolyard chants. Yes, the ladies of the Trucks may make your grandma blush, but beyond the pretty faces and innuendo are four talented ladies picking up the electro banner.
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