You know what I love? Fake bands. When I was in middle school, I was all about The Wonders of That Thing You Do! fame. My favorite was the drummer with his boyish charm and nice guy demeanor but I was smitten with T.B. Player as well (The Bass Player, for those not familiar with the Oneders). Before that, I wanted to be truly, truly outrageous much like Jem and her holograms. Everyone from Lost's Driveshaft to Josie and the Pussycats have held my attention at one time or another so it's no surprise that Sex Bob-omb, the fictional band of the titular character in this summer's superb, charming, wonderful should-be hit Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World, is right up my alley.
I read Scott Pilgrim. I'm not saying this to assert superiority over those of you that didn't read it until after the movie or still haven't read it or only read it when you heard the movie was being made. I'm saying this instead to prove the point that I had very specific ideas of what these characters should look like and, more importantly, what their bands should sound like. I could care less about the Envy Adams fronted Clash at Demonhead or the kitsch-noise trio Crash and The Boys. Sex Bob-omb, however, I had a very clear vision of in my head and was apprehensive to see brought to fruition. This apprehension mainly had to do with the fact that Sex Bob-omb, in the novels, suck yet the audience-slash-readers are supposed to like them, something that's easy enough in the books because, well, you don't have to listen to them. The movie was a different story. No one wants to sit through a crappy band, especially the crappy band belonging to the hero of the film, the guy we're supposed to root for.
Additionally, I was also nervous about fictional frontman Stephen Stills. You don't find 2-D turbo babes often but Stills in nothing short of smokin'. He's the very pinnacle of "tortured, apathetic artist" in a dang attractive young-Clint-Eastwood-goes-grungy-hipster sort of way.
To say I was pleasantly surprised by Sex Bob-omb, in all aspects, is a vast understatement. The Beck penned tunes, performed by the actors themselves, are sort of fantastic. And movie Stills, played by Mark Weber in the film, is book Stills to a tee, Western style button ups, squinty eyes, and all.
If Sex Bob-omb was real, I'd buy their records. I'd go to their shows. Heck, I would totally be a huge fangirl for Stephen Stills, Knives Chau style, making my own Sex Bob-omb tee shirts and screaming like a psychotic schoolgirl at the sight of the band.
In fact, I'm pretty sure I would love Sex Bob-omb primarily because of Stills' scruffy face, voice, and demeanor and be all too forgiving about the music just because of Stills' turbo babe standings.
Whoever told you good looks don't help you succeed told you a boldfaced lie. Sorry to break it to you this way.
See, the Sex Bob-omb songs aren't great. They're lyrically bizarre in a way that recalls an amateur version of early Beck, which is to say that it's totally obvious he wrote them. He was probably trying to write a bad song but he's so dang talented that even his attempts at bad songs turn out kind of awesome. They're catchy tunes and I for one have been harassing my roommate with the "Truck, truck, truck!" hook from "Garbage Truck" for weeks. They're fun, grungy rock and roll made by a fictional band of hipster kids from Toronto and really, that's what Sex Bob-omb is supposed to be.