In a world littered with pretentious and forcefully progressive modern/alternative rock, Rusty Miller has jumped ship and is using his guitar to stay afloat in the turbid wake of commercial music. Fortunately for us, his guitar isn't too waterlogged.
Miller, lead everything for Jackpot (songwriter, vocals, guitar), promises nothing but offers s heaping plateful of modern rock goulash. If nothing else, Miller and crew surprise listeners who might be skeptical of the CD's grotesque cover (which just might be the worst part of the album) or mislead by the irony of the title, Shiny Things when, in fact, there is nothing flashy or chintzy about the album; it's simplicity is its strong suit, coming across as straightforward modern rock with sublet murmurs of country, blues and folk and even, in one offbeat track, disco.
But if there's one thing the four rattle shakers of Jackpot should promise it's that there will not be a predictable line on the album. While the melodies and harmonic structures are occasionally reminiscent of better-known bands (i.e. the Wallflowers, post Mellow Gold Beck) the lyricism is incredibly visual, unique in its metaphors, and has poetically farcical. When Miller hums on "Fleas on the Tail of Time," "What if the world was a microwave/ and our souls were frozen dinners/ love would be a big blister/ on the roof of your mouth," it seems somehow appropriate without sounding contrived or base. It's honest, like swinging on your front porch with a glass of iced tea.
Tracks like "Far, Far, Far" and "Hide in the Frequency" slowly and dauntingly shake the infrastructure of the ear with hints of Paul Westerberg and hillbilly zaniness. And in order to make the album more personal and loose, Miller can be heard at times fooling around, talking to the other members of the band or screaming wildly ala Axel Rose style. He even pauses midtrack after crooning about food and a woman displaying her tattoos to say, "Wait a second, I don't know if I can deal with that." At this point it's unclear whether or not Miller is referring to the woman or the song in general, but it creates an interesting dynamic. The atmosphere created is one of familiarity.
Miller's scratchily belts out lines that would sound ridiculous coming from just about anyone else (like "wrap the trombone around my head" or "I can't be Superman cause no one's really that super/ but I'll steal your neighbor's cat"), one wonders why Miller can get away with such facetiousness when others can't. Because he's having fun his amusement allows him this privilege.
Jackpot have several things going for them, first and foremost is the fun yet mature campiness of the music, and the only thing that could potentially be a detriment to their style is the occasional poppy guitar riff. While they do miss the mark for being ahead of the curve musically, this is not their intent, and Jackpot succeeds in writing a clean rock album without any contaminants.
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