War. UFO’s. Dreams. These are the three subjects from which southern Mississippi hard rockers draw on as source material for their unexpectedly sharp, dynamic debut album, The Crash of 47.

A quick glance around the current music scene reveals the lack of development countless bands succumb to with respect to their songs. Many groups, particularly those in the nu-metal or hard rock genres are routinely guilty of spewing out songs about either girlfriend or parental angst. When the music is done with passion and a general understanding of the process of piecing together a song, then the songwriting blemishes can be overlooked. When the music is every bit as bad as the lyricism, all hope is lost. Atomship charge head first into the hard rock scene with intelligent songs that are almost never boring, both musically and lyrically speaking. It’s so refreshing to see a band have fun and pound away on their instruments, all the while crooning about alien life forms or schoolyard predicaments.

Their approach to the music deserves praise too, for they rarely stumble on the eleven tracks (which impressively top fifty minutes in run time). There is no mindless noise apparent anywhere on the disc; just simple, well executed tunes that rock hard and fast, without sounding the same. The replay value is very high, judging by the band’s efforts to crave each song it’s own appropriate niche in the album. Nothing feels out of place, there are no stupid filler tracks, and the three members undoubtedly know how to stir up a whirlwind of emotions in the listener. The Crash of 47 should easily make any competent music critic’s top ten list of the best albums of the year.

Day of Daze flies out of the gate like it was shot of a cannon. The edgy rhythm sections showcase vocalist Joey Culver’s pristine abilities. I would say Culver is uncannily similar to Chris Volz of Flaw, another front man who focuses on a clean, emotional delivery without pointless yelling every five seconds. It’s creepy how close they sound alike, and the opening number is the perfect platform to sketch comparisons from. Nevertheless, the song is brutally heavy but quite accessible. It may be a little short, but it’s definitely a highlight on the record.

The oddly placed second effort, Mothera, really surprised me, not only because it was a poor choice for the second track, but by it’s sheer weirdness. The title comes from the famous adversary of Godzilla, the Japanese monster. Culver makes only scattered appearances, but the guitar solo in the bridge was an absolute wonder. The song can never be called dull, it’s just a victim of its second slot selection. I felt the band should have held off for a few tracks until the listener has a chance to become comfortable with the band’s unique sound before throwing a curveball so early in the count.

Dragonfly, which bears no resemblance to the atrocious Kevin Costner movie of the same name, is more fanciful music to feast on. The tempo, even during the verses, is remarkably speedy. The final chorus is one to die for; soaring harmonies overlaying a tidal wave of screeching power chords and bruising drumming. The lead single arrives in the forth slot, the quirky, energetic, Pencil Fight. Culver outlines some of the problems with the current U.S. public school system in this song that’s heavy when it needs to be, but still knows how to have fun. The amazingly catchy opening guitar hook is the spine from which the rest of the song builds on.

Atomship forges onward with Withered, a stirring ballad that makes as much of an impact as any of the ferocious hard rockers on the album. The simple, tightly played acoustic guitar is a perfect fit for this softer entry, but it’s Culver who really gets the accolades for a spot-on performance. The almost seven-minute beast Agent Orange is next. A politically themed war song done right, the band keeps the pace at a brisk jog for the first three minutes, then switches to a captivating, moody bridge. In a way, it reminds me of Metallica’s One. Everything slowly builds until the last third explodes onto the scene. Culver vehemently barks out, “This is how you hold your American flag!”, an obvious declaration against the current Bush government.

Featured on The Punisher soundtrack, Time For People picks up almost immediately where the last track left off; a brutally honest assessment of the Republican government’s decision to send troops into Iraq. The haunting lines, “I found no people for killing time/ So I found time for killing people” show the repulsion the band exhibits towards Bush and Co. The eccentric Aliens is another jewel; not very loud or heavy, but with weird background effects and an pulsing vocal delivery, it’s hard not to get enraptured. Whitfield returns to the hammering intensity of earlier tracks, except for a notably melodic chorus.

If there’s one downfall to the album, it would be the tenth number, Friends. The opening guitar riff is a douzy, and then Culver promptly shouts, in an oddly Fred Durst way, “Hey mama/ Can’t you see I’m f*cking cooking?”. The song really is nothing to hang your head at, as there’s lots of fervent energy flowing around here, but for whatever reason, this song always gets passed over. Closing out with Plastic People, Atomship leaves the listener wanting more. While the static noise at the tail end goes on forever, it’s only a minor gripe of an otherwise bullying track. Be sure not to miss this one.

In a year where you can count the number of really excellent albums in one hand, Atomship have come out of nowhere and already made a name for themselves as a direct, exciting band that holds nothing back. Their quest to become one of the best rock bands starts with this amazingly well rounded debut effort. A strong grasp of dynamics and quality songwriting ensures that the record is devoid of dull moments. Simply put, rock music doesn’t get much more solid than The Crash of 47.

Recommended: Yes