Louder Now (album review)
It’s been a slow, relaxing week; hence, another review with delightfully pretentious headers perfect for Pitchfork. Enjoy!
Part I: On True Originality, or Is Fame merely infamy?
The quest for originality has been a noble quest throughout human existence. Life becomes truly meaningful when a person achieves something memorable, perhaps even earning a place in the annals of history. True meaning is not realized through banal accomplishments such as receiving a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame or owning a penthouse that overlooks Condamine et Monte-Carlo. Rather, true meaning is realized through dreaming in color beyond the neutral, acceptable palette comprised of blacks, whites and grays.
Such an elusive pursuit is originality. One must be extremely exceptional—or lucky—to be esteemed a magnificent particle of quartz amidst a billion other grains of sand. In spite of such remote chances, the accusation that one has not transcended this uniformity is devastating. In American Beauty after the fragilely beautiful Angela Hayes tells Jane that at least she is not ugly, Ricky devastates Angela with the retort, “Yes, you are. And you're boring. And you're totally ordinary. And you know it.”
On the subject of being unoriginal, Dostovesky said, “There is, indeed, nothing more annoying than to be wealthy, of good family, nice looking… and yet have no talents, no special faculty, no peculiarity even, not even one idea of one’s own, to be precisely ‘like other people’.”
Part II: Clever Segue
The arts present a means to overcome the commonality of existence through self-expression. However, one must still struggle to gain recognition among an overabundance of global copycat talent. In the oversaturated music industry, one must have a distinctive voice to bellow out a tune that can be heard above the ambient noise. It also helps having expensive equipment underwritten by one’s label.
Adam Lazzara and Fred Mascherino know the challenge of making one’s voice heard all too well. With their band’s third LP Louder Now, they and the rest of Taking Back Sunday seek to sing louder now. They must if they want to expand their audience and want to capitalize on their brief opportunity to achieve enduring fame.
Part III: Intensity of Volume Does Not always Coincide with Ultimate Ability; It Merely Indicates You Are Loud
Louder Now is admittedly a robust album with an expansive sound. Having signed to Warner Brothers, the band makes no pretense of being underground, instead delivering eleven respectable tracks of mainstream rock. All debate on the merits of indie versus mainstream labels aside, these tracks are decent but surprisingly sterile.
Hidden among the studio wizardry, a few heartfelt moments surface. “Divine Intervention” is perfect for those clichéd nights alone with a bowl of white chocolate crème brûlée. Accompanied by a minimal acoustic guitar, tambourine, and a tinkling vibraphone, soothing words lull the listener into slumber: “Despondent, distracted/You're vicious and romantic/These are a few of my favorite things.”
Beginning with a harmonic intro and an outstanding whispered melody, “My Blue Heaven” fashions a similar mood. The energy disappointingly wanes with the pre-chorus that channels a little Chris Carrabba. Another interesting note about the song was observed by my insightful friend Buddy: The words for the chorus are copied exactly from “Wedding Dress”, a song from Breaking Pangaea, Fred’s old band.
As the song finishes, it leans toward the theatric with violins awkwardly emerging. Their frail harmonies fails to complement the song, making it end anti-climatically. As an apology, the liner notes indicate that the strings are real, presumably unlike the synth strings on the comparatively better “Great Romances of the 20th Century” (from Tell All Your Friends).
Commercialization inevitably affects artistic integrity as demonstrated by some of the album’s lyrics which are almost sophomoric, like the “I’m an addict for dramatics” that sounds like a catchphrase for a high-school cheerleader. Vague phrases enjoy thoughtless repetition like the “This is what we’re up against” on the otherwise excellent song “Up Against (Blackout)”. Sadly, the band seems to be unaware that post-modern lyrics do not all have to be meaningless [ahem, Chris Martin].
It is commendable that Taking Back Sunday is willing to modify their style, instead of clinging to their past achievements. With this album, they venture away from overtly-sentimental trends into new territory. Still, that territory seems to be a well-traveled path back to ordinary modern rock. The rough guitar riffs remind the listener of Juliana Theory’s Deadbeat Sweetheart. The album’s melodramatic climaxes sound suspiciously like fellow moody rockers Sparta and Hawthorne Heights.
Without the talent of original band member John Nolan, Taking Back Sunday is wavering both in the studio and in concert. It is true that their debut LP Tell All Your Friends had its rough edges. What made it memorable was not its cheered-up Thursday catharsis or its mosh-pit sentimentality, but the witty catchphrases interspersed through the "deconstructionist" lyrics. Even on Where You Want to Be, Nolan’s influence is evident, despite the falling out between Adam and him before production of that album. But without Nolan contributing to Louder Now, it, unfortunately like Angela Hayes, is beautiful but unoriginal.
Taking Back Sunday - Louder Now
(Warner Brothers, 2006)
(Warner Brothers, 2006)
Part I: On True Originality, or Is Fame merely infamy?
The quest for originality has been a noble quest throughout human existence. Life becomes truly meaningful when a person achieves something memorable, perhaps even earning a place in the annals of history. True meaning is not realized through banal accomplishments such as receiving a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame or owning a penthouse that overlooks Condamine et Monte-Carlo. Rather, true meaning is realized through dreaming in color beyond the neutral, acceptable palette comprised of blacks, whites and grays.
Such an elusive pursuit is originality. One must be extremely exceptional—or lucky—to be esteemed a magnificent particle of quartz amidst a billion other grains of sand. In spite of such remote chances, the accusation that one has not transcended this uniformity is devastating. In American Beauty after the fragilely beautiful Angela Hayes tells Jane that at least she is not ugly, Ricky devastates Angela with the retort, “Yes, you are. And you're boring. And you're totally ordinary. And you know it.”
On the subject of being unoriginal, Dostovesky said, “There is, indeed, nothing more annoying than to be wealthy, of good family, nice looking… and yet have no talents, no special faculty, no peculiarity even, not even one idea of one’s own, to be precisely ‘like other people’.”
Part II: Clever Segue
The arts present a means to overcome the commonality of existence through self-expression. However, one must still struggle to gain recognition among an overabundance of global copycat talent. In the oversaturated music industry, one must have a distinctive voice to bellow out a tune that can be heard above the ambient noise. It also helps having expensive equipment underwritten by one’s label.
Adam Lazzara and Fred Mascherino know the challenge of making one’s voice heard all too well. With their band’s third LP Louder Now, they and the rest of Taking Back Sunday seek to sing louder now. They must if they want to expand their audience and want to capitalize on their brief opportunity to achieve enduring fame.
Part III: Intensity of Volume Does Not always Coincide with Ultimate Ability; It Merely Indicates You Are Loud
Louder Now is admittedly a robust album with an expansive sound. Having signed to Warner Brothers, the band makes no pretense of being underground, instead delivering eleven respectable tracks of mainstream rock. All debate on the merits of indie versus mainstream labels aside, these tracks are decent but surprisingly sterile.
Hidden among the studio wizardry, a few heartfelt moments surface. “Divine Intervention” is perfect for those clichéd nights alone with a bowl of white chocolate crème brûlée. Accompanied by a minimal acoustic guitar, tambourine, and a tinkling vibraphone, soothing words lull the listener into slumber: “Despondent, distracted/You're vicious and romantic/These are a few of my favorite things.”
Beginning with a harmonic intro and an outstanding whispered melody, “My Blue Heaven” fashions a similar mood. The energy disappointingly wanes with the pre-chorus that channels a little Chris Carrabba. Another interesting note about the song was observed by my insightful friend Buddy: The words for the chorus are copied exactly from “Wedding Dress”, a song from Breaking Pangaea, Fred’s old band.
As the song finishes, it leans toward the theatric with violins awkwardly emerging. Their frail harmonies fails to complement the song, making it end anti-climatically. As an apology, the liner notes indicate that the strings are real, presumably unlike the synth strings on the comparatively better “Great Romances of the 20th Century” (from Tell All Your Friends).
Commercialization inevitably affects artistic integrity as demonstrated by some of the album’s lyrics which are almost sophomoric, like the “I’m an addict for dramatics” that sounds like a catchphrase for a high-school cheerleader. Vague phrases enjoy thoughtless repetition like the “This is what we’re up against” on the otherwise excellent song “Up Against (Blackout)”. Sadly, the band seems to be unaware that post-modern lyrics do not all have to be meaningless [ahem, Chris Martin].
It is commendable that Taking Back Sunday is willing to modify their style, instead of clinging to their past achievements. With this album, they venture away from overtly-sentimental trends into new territory. Still, that territory seems to be a well-traveled path back to ordinary modern rock. The rough guitar riffs remind the listener of Juliana Theory’s Deadbeat Sweetheart. The album’s melodramatic climaxes sound suspiciously like fellow moody rockers Sparta and Hawthorne Heights.
Without the talent of original band member John Nolan, Taking Back Sunday is wavering both in the studio and in concert. It is true that their debut LP Tell All Your Friends had its rough edges. What made it memorable was not its cheered-up Thursday catharsis or its mosh-pit sentimentality, but the witty catchphrases interspersed through the "deconstructionist" lyrics. Even on Where You Want to Be, Nolan’s influence is evident, despite the falling out between Adam and him before production of that album. But without Nolan contributing to Louder Now, it, unfortunately like Angela Hayes, is beautiful but unoriginal.
posted by David Mc at
8:05 AM
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