Remember Right Now

Beats the hell outta me, pal.

I always thought that Tora Tora would become one of America’s great rock ’n’ roll bands. I mean, if you ever find a copy of their long-deleted first album, Surprise Attack, pick it up and see for yourself if they didn’t deserve their 15 minutes of arena-rock stardom. But as it turns out, I was dead wrong: After two releases they faded into obscurity.

Which is why you shouldn’t go betting the farm when I say this, but here comes that sinking feeling again. I can feel it coming and this time it’s telling me that Spitalfield is gonna be really big. Now don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that these guys deserve to be anywhere nearly as huge as Tora Tora did, but I know slickness when I hear it and there’s a whole lotta smooth commercial success percolating in these digital grooves, just waiting to goosh out all over America.

I can feel it coming because they’ve got the goods nailed down in spades. Everything about Remember Right Now just reeks of thoughtful intelligence, from the lyrics and music right on down to the evocative song titles and artwork. Everything, that is, except for the group’s truly hideous handle.

But what’s in a name when the band rocks like late-era Clash at their preppiest while managing to emulate every new slickly contrived radio-friendly unit shifter that program directors love to wet themselves silly over these days.

If this were 1986, Spitalfield’s music would be featured during the big drug cartel shootout on this week’s episode of “Miami Vice.”

I can feel it coming in the air tonight.

Oh, lord.