Hail to the Chief.
 
At least, that’s what the cringe inducing press release that accompanies Chief’s Modern Rituals would ask of its intended audience.

Personally, I’m more in favour of sending this sentiment on an indefinite hiatus.

And if this American four piece happen to find themselves along for the ride, I wouldn’t object.

Brothers Danny and Michael Fujikawa along with Evan Koga and Mike Moonves comprise Chief; a one trick, west coast rock cliché of a band whose debut album is wrapped in so many coatings of sugar, I fear mass exposure of Modern Rituals to the public may result in a sharp increase of type two diabetes.

Repetitive, one dimensional melodies make crushingly predictable appearances on most every track.

As if to hammer home the point of how insipid and uninspired Chief are, their music is aptly accompanied by cheap, faux yearning, emotive sound bite’s repeated to the point of nausea.

Presumably the boys wanted to make sure their audience could keep up with the turgid, nursery rhyme lyrics of “love” their song writing lexicon seems interminably wedded to.

This isn’t music, it’s a sales pitch.

And Modern Rituals is the aural equivalent of a chicken mcnugget.

You know there’s no part of a chicken called a nugget, you know whatever’s in a nugget can’t be good for you; but it’s quick, easy and you don’t have to think about anything while you’re eating them.

And the unhealthy fast food music Chief have spawned is packaged just as cynically as a McDonald’s happy meal that targets kids through free toys and cartoons.

Modern Rituals over produced, focus group polished McSongs all contain easily recognisable music and themes; engineered to ensure every possible demographic can identify with their product.

It’s as if Chief want to be a band for no other reason than to say they’re in a band.

They sure as hell don’t have anything to say.

And to judge from Modern Rituals, I doubt they’re capable of an original thought between them.

Should any of them ever have the fortune of stumbling upon someone or something in possession of genuine wit or insight, I imagine they’d run away screaming from the alien situation they’re confronted by.

So do you yourself a favour, and blank this Chief at every opportunity.

Jonathan Campbell