The New Wave isn't a new wave anymore, it's a tidal wave. The hard rockers, disco-ers, heavy-metal maniacs, urban cowpokes and space cadets are falling into line. They are cutting their hair, combing the closets for old mod clothes and brushing up the standard three-chord progressions. And the result of all this energy in that the music itself is becoming watered down.
The Shirts are a perfect case in point.Their show last night at Deperado was New Wave at its newest and most mundane. The six-piece group stormed across the stage, kicking their heels high and flailing at their guiters, trying their best to evoke the image and sound of '60s rock 'n' rollers.
Singer Annie Golden, golden tresses and all, bounced about like a pubescent pixie -- a kind of kinky teen-age counterpart to Roger Daltrey. In fact, the whole group seemed to have a Who fetish. Bright, crystalline vocal harmonies were contrasted by crunching Townshendesque chords and the entire set was pervaded by a sense of British Beat deja vu.
The Shirts are tight, proficient and downright fun at times. But they also sould like the other thousand and one groups marching under the New Wave banner.