The debut CD Revelation by Sons of Sylvia is a yet another addition to the ever lengthening parade of faux country albums.  The band, which is composed of the three Clark brothers, Adam, Ashley, and Austin, joins the ranks of Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, and all the other pop artists that weasel their way onto country radio stations by throwing the occasional steel guitar into their songs and affecting western accents when it’s convenient.

Revelation does not fit snugly into the country genre, nor any other genre for that matter.  Some tracks, like “John Wayne” and “Revelation,” show a mixture of country and folk influence.  Yet this spastic record finds no fault in switching to a rather quick and techno tempo in the fourth track, “50 Ways.”  The eighth song, “Long Beach,” has an odd reminiscent feel for California and positively begs to played at Hollister or similar venues.  “I’ll Know You,” the second to last track, feels like an unnecessary rip off of Aerosmith, with stale eighties imitation music doing nothing to enhance the album.

Sylvia certainly raised some rambling, aimless sons.  Although the instrumentals are not terrible, they are also nothing worth mentioning or committing even a half note to memory.  Perhaps most memorable are the tracks’ lyrics due to their completely nonsensical composition.  The last song, for example, “The War Within,” bellows that ”You’re so in love with yourself that you hate yourself/That you hate yourself/Hate yourself.”

For all of those clamoring for the Clark trio’s revelation: the title track declares “Love’s the only thing keeping us alive/This is my/This is my/This is my/This is my revelation.”  This is quite the epiphany. How foolish were we to have assumed food, water, and shelter play a role in mankind’s continued existence! The blatantly unoriginal subject matter of all ten tracks grates one’s nerves to a fine powder.  The power of love, elaborated upon only with generic examples and dull platitudes, does not enrapture one’s ears or imagination for long.  Yes, love is a great thing.  Understood.  Let’s move on (except this band never does).

Overall, this young trio, once it gains a sense of direction, more insight into the world (or at least cleverer ways of expressing said insight), and less stupid lyrics, has the potential to be a great alternative or pop group.  Before the Sons of Sylvia climbs these hurdles, let us not be so quick to insult the country genre even further by plopping this record on the same shelf as Johnny Cash and Brad Paisley. Grade: D

–Jessica Murray, The Patriot Press