Time to discuss an epiphany: I recently had the opportunity to review The Fashion for MuzikReviews.com, a Danish band who thrive on dangerous vibes. By "dangerous," I don't mean the laughable antics of acts like the Insane Clown Posse. Rather, it's a penchant for entertaining listeners with frenetic lunacy; think Gene Wilder's psychopathic singing on the boat ride in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The Fashion's recent self-titled debauchery has been the cumulative "cherry on top" for a whole line of similarly dangerous (albeit below-the-radar) 2008 releases: 31Knots' Worried Well (you can read that review here), Department of Eagles' In Ear Park (ditto here), and the wonderfully black aura of Hairspray Blues' Sick Little Package (again, here.) Each boils and bristles with a kind of painful sonic voltage - the musical equivalent of a joyful electric chair.

So what's that have to do with the realization I mentioned earlier? Just this: that when compared to these four releases, the rest of modern rock's 2008 slate is painfully limpwristed. It's the result of a long process, sadly: having long been sapped of its original swagger, popular rock n' roll has finally reached the end of its over-nursed, watered-down ale. Grunge and alternative were forefathers to such - in turns disparaged and whiny, they inevitably led to angst-ridden doldrum music. That would be the kind of emo-screamo pop now espoused by acts like Fall Out Boy (for an excellent addendum to that, read Chris Homer's recent post.) It's a formulaic, safe, processed, packaged, vitamin-injected non-genre, whose ideal band would be some kind of cross between The Killers and the Jonas Brothers.

It's a wonder if any of these kids have seen the wrinkled footage of Chuck Berry singing "Johnny B. Goode," sweating and glaring and strutting like a madman to a nervous audience (knock yourself out here - but beware Keith Richards.) Or maybe even the frantic, zipped-up lunacy of Jerry Lee Lewis' possessed piano skills. Or, likewise, the tales of murder, execution, judgment and damnation that permeate Johnny Cash's music. These men make today's rock look tame in comparison, their rightful heirs flying far under the radar.