arly 80s headbangers Twisted Sister summarized their band philosophy succinctly and sagely in the title of their 1984 breakthrough LP, Stay Hungry (the one featuring "We're Not Gonna Take It"). The phrase sticks in my head as a good exhortation for bands with dreams of infiltrating the mainstream, because nine times outta ten success has a tendency to poison the reservoirs of inspiration. Sure there are exceptions here and there, but I'd say for the most part that popularity kills bands' ability to rock, as drugs, girls and constant attention drain the life out of once-competent combos. So, naturally it follows that the best music generally comes from artists yet uncompromised by commercial considerations, artists that are still "hungry" for desperate want of the recognition they so desire.


This little editorial digression brings us to the Vibrant Green, three peckish brothers straight outta central North Carolina with eyes deadlocked on rock ascendancy. They recall fondly a bygone age when power trios roamed the airwaves, MTV played videos by Matador and Sub Pop groups, and "rock" wasn't a four-letter word in the world of dependent music. Into their sound goes gobs of Weezer before they turned Green (not that they were ever really "indie," but. . .), along with Nirvana, the Pixies, and traces of Sebadoh, Sonic Youth and even some U2 from the 80s. The band's a bit of an anachronism in these polished and post-modern aughts, but they're damn proud of what they do, and more than a little adept at it as well.


Oh, did I mention they love God, too? But that didn't stop you from buying that Pedro the Lion record, and it shouldn't keep you away from VG either. These guys aren't gunning for the Christian music ghetto, and I applaud 'em for it, especially considering how lucrative that route can be. The lyrics occasionally reference a Father in heaven, but my own organized-religion-despising sensibilities weren't too offended. Lead singer Stephen Tunnell's voice is a bit of an acquired taste, working far better as a soaring War-era Bonoesque wail than a low, trembly warble. But his pipes do attain clear unmistakability, which is no mean feat considering the ridiculous glut of young garage-dwellers out there.


The VG come impressively correct with their instrumental performances, playing with the sort of near-psychic tightness reserved for blood brothers and seasoned virtuosos. When necessary, they shred with controlled ferocity, as on "Overrated" and "Will You." Not falling into verse-chorus-verse limbo is also appreciated on said rockers. But "I Find You" and "Give Me Some Time" show that they can slow and quiet things down and not lose the audience's attention. At only five songs, the band does its work quickly and leaves the listener not quite sated, but appreciative nonetheless.


With a little more songwriting and touring under their belt, Vibrant Green could garner the cult fanbase they hanker for. Right now, these clean-cut kids from the South are just stringy enough to remind me of the mid-90s, when for two or three years it seemed like the mainstream and the undergound might almost converge. Since that never really happened, let's just hope that VG get the chance to bring their retro-leanings to a larger audience.