ALTERNATIVE
Critic's rating:
The Killers, "Sam's Town" (Interscope)
It was one thing for the Las Vegas quartet the Killers to
shamelessly ape the New Wave mope-pop of '80s heroes the Cure and
the Smiths, with a smattering of old-school glam-rock thrown in for
good measure. They certainly aren't the only ones doing that of
late, and while they're far from the best, plenty of people love 'em:
Their 2004 debut "Hot Fuss" sold 5 million copies at a time when
what used to be called alternative rock rarely dented the top of the
charts. But it's another thing entirely for the group to begin
imitating Bruce Springsteen on its eagerly awaited follow-up,
especially when they're mimicking his bombastic, silly "Born in the
USA."Yes, it's hard to imagine a singer combining the very worst
traits of the Boss and "Fat Bob" Smith, but Brandon Flowers does it
while simultaneously delivering the most grating and cheesy
synthesizer sounds since Duran Duran and lyrics that challenge the
limitations of the adjective "insipid." (A sample, from the single
"When You Were Young": "The devil's water, it ain't so sweet /
You don't have to drink right now / But you can dip your feet /
Every once in a while.") Add to this a wretchedly florid, glossy
and subtle-as-a-bludgeon production by the otherwise distinguished
team of Alan Moulder and Flood and the presence of strings, choirs,
everything and the kitchen sink on songs such as "The River
Is Wild" (you thought I was joking about the Springsteen rips) and "Bling
(Confession of a King)" and you have an '80s flashback more painful
than anything Ronald Reagan or Margaret Thatcher ever unleashed.
INDIE ROCK
Critic's rating:
The Decemberists, "The Crane Wife" (Capitol)
The most striking track on the major-label debut and fourth album
overall from this Portland-based orchestral-pop quintet is a more
than 12-minute, four-part suite fancifully titled "The Island, Come
and See, the Landlord's Daughter, You'll Not Feel the Drowning." The
guitar riff and the structure of the song recall the Wings epic
"Band on the Run"; the frantic synthesizer runs and falsetto wail
evoke vintage Yes, and the layers of instruments and lyrics that
talk of arabesque bayonets, a saber wielded in anger and chests of
gold and silver bring to mind Jethro Tull at its most colorful.
The song is indicative of the wild ambition, intense creativity and,
yes, progressive-rock fetishism of the entire album: Nothing sounds
quite like it, or at least not on the current rock scene. We're told
that the 10 songs form a concept album based on a Japanese folk tale
involving a wounded crane, a rare romance and a magical cloth. It
all sounds college lit-major pretentious, I'll grant you, and
bandleader Colin Meloy's thin, reedy vocals and affected British
accent are acquired tastes. But there aren't enough lyricists these
days who can rhyme words like "belfry," much less "arabesque," and
the Decemberists remind us that the best prog thrived because of
strong songwriting as much as instrumental prowess. Other modern
practitioners such as Coheed and Cambria and Tool certainly have the
latter, but they often lack the former.
In the end, "The Crane Wife" keeps you listening again and again
because of the undeniable strength of Meloy's melodies and the
welcome addition of a more rambunctious rhythmic undertow amid the
lush violins, layered keyboards and intricately finger-picked
acoustic guitars. The combination not only makes this the
Decemberists' strongest album, but a peak that the Arcade Fire will
have a hard time topping if they want to maintain their rep as the
smartest and hardest-rocking ork-pop band.