The Muslims, The Soft Pack

When I read this title back to myself, I think it’s backwards. That’s because The Soft Pack were once called The Muslims but got some hate and heat from that back in 2007 when they first burst on to the indie rock scene. So they changed it, releasing their debut (which contained many of these songs) as The Soft Pack.

I’m of the belief that the original name of the band was great. (That name now belongs to an all-queer black and brown punk band – their words – who hail from North Carolina.) That said, it’s their band and they can call it what they want – the important thing here is the music.

It’s clear that The Strokes played their part in the sound of The Soft Pack. I imagine This Is It being blasted out and influencing this band from San Diego. It’s got that distinctly east coast vibe rather than the sunny west coast from which they hail. It’s DIY, with thrashy drums up front and vocals low in the mix.

I first came across the band when they put out their lead single, Extinction. The video had that perfect film/art school look and feel which singer Matt Lamkin had studied, but somehow was also simple and hypnotic as Matt moved in and out of focus behind the leaves of a tree as the wind blew. It was so different to the flashy MTV-style videos that rap bands were putting out, or indie bands conjured up. That DIY aesthetic again. That song alone hooked me in.

The garage rock sound pervades throughout the album. The production isn’t great, yet it lends itself to the overall sound of the band and, I would like to think, was purposeful. Once they’d changed their name and re-recorded many of the songs, some of that essence was definitely lost. Despite the obvious low production values, the band is a tight unit. They have great riffs in the same way that early Libertines songs have them. Tracks like Call it a Day and the aforementioned Extinction showcase the catchiness of the guitar riffs, the drummer’s pounding but solid beats. The perfect backdrop to singer Matt’s punk rock crooning.

The Soft Pack weren’t necessarily doing anything new or innovative. Yet, somehow, they avoided being completely derivative. On My Time is a good example. It punches out at you from the get-go so you can’t duck and avoid it (not that you’d want to). It’s like the band aimed to obscure their musical abilities while at the same time demonstrate they could write and play simple, brilliant songs.

The shimmering noise of Religion is a band doing things on their own terms – Mark E. Smith would’ve hated them for following his lead in that respect, especially on tracks like American, but as someone who loves The Fall, there are few comparisons to make here beyond hypnotic, rhythmic guitars and occasional vocal barks.

The Soft Pack managed two albums before they ceased to be. This early incarnation of their sound was, perhaps, their best. Unencumbered by media expectations, their desire to make noisy guitar-based music in a garage with their mates was what mattered most. And for that, we can be thankful.