The Center Hall Sessions. Courtesy of Nemorocks.com

Do It Yourself

By Herden A. Daza

"…my posse's on broadwaaaay" Courtesy of Nemorocks.com

The "Do it yourself" theme has often led to unconventional results, and Nemo take this to heart, sprinkling the angeldust of punk over such seemingly trivial topics as the death of a goldfish or the contents of one's pockets. "The Center Hall Sessions," the first release from the battle-tested quartet who split time between Los Angeles and San Diego offers but a sample of their chops, weighing in at a scant six songs. Though lacking in quantity, what sounds arise from the speakers when you turn them on are well-crafted, familiar forms that contain the distinct essence native to southern Californian bands.

"No, Abe, that chord does not make you look fat." Courtesy of Nemorocks.com

Beginning in grade school, vocalist and rhythm-guitarist Daniel Park and drummer Sunn Wee started busting grooves in the Valley at an early age. Meanwhile, bassist Abe Chong and lead-guitarist Yong Kim were beginning their friendship up north. Fast-forward to 2002, on the campus of the University of California at San Diego. Daniel and Sunn, moving away from their previous band, Poser, picked up their mutual friend Yong, who phoned his buddy Abe from up north. Throw in some makeshift jam sessions on campus and Voila! Nemo was born. Though their days of midnight-renegade rehearsals in lecture halls are over and two of them have moved to Los Angeles, Nemo still find the time to practice and tour, recently heading back east to play in New York City.

Guitarist Yongstar heads towards the tone. Courtesy of Nemorocks.com

Apropos to their efforts, the first song, entitled "DIY" (or "do it yourself, for those who balk at acronyms) is a call to arms, making note of the underutilized power of democracy and exhorting idle-handed lollygagger to make an effort. Once the public service announcement is out of the way, Nemo begin to have some fun with "The Goldfish Song." Ostensibly a lament on the passing of a cherished pet, the song's undertones about unconditional friendship hint at a serious side to the band, which is fully realized in the optimistic anthem "Another Better Day." As the lead guitar chimes its melancholy dissonance, one hearkens back to the days before Weezer wussed out (okay, okay, the days before Rivers wussed out), evoking a sincerity that has been amiss since then.

Airy and engaging, this disc is not unlike a successful first date. The first impression was intriguing, and as the time flew by, fascination grew into attraction with every word. And after "goodnight," a giddy infatuation sets in, with thoughts racing toward the next outing. I can't wait.

October 10, 2003