MR|Review – Foo Fighters “Wasting Light,” TV On The Radio “Nine Types of Light,” Fleet Foxes “Helplessness Blues,” Wye Oak “Civilian,” and The Twilight Singers “Dynamite Steps”

New Foo records carry a heavy load of expectations from fans and critics alike, so it’s taken some time for me to resolve how I feel about Wasting Light; damned good.

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It’s raw, it’s loud, it sounds pretty good for a modern rock record (a big deal’s been made of the use of analog gear and tape, and Dave must now have the most famous garage in the world, so much ink and so many pixels have been spilled), and the band seems hungry again.  After the initial rush of the clear standout tunes like “Rope,” “White Limo,” and “Bridge Burning,” other songs took their turn sticking in my head.  “Back & Forth” has slowly revealed itself as a top-shelf jam; “These Days” really works emotionally, almost in spite of some potentially clunky lyrical moves, and “Arlandria” is proving surprisingly durable on repeat.

Some writers have mentioned that the choruses aren’t as rousing as they’d hoped, but I have another take on that; I think the verses are so strong, good choruses pale a bit in comparison.  “Rope” is the textbook case.  It has a riffy, rhythmic verse with a great melody, cool vocal harmony, and weirdo turnaround.  The wide-open chorus is almost a notch down in energy until it gets to “You… go… I… come… loose!”

(Sidenote – Just like last time, note the P4k is still talking about what the record isn’t, instead of what it is!)

One change on Wasting Light is the shift in the spirit of Dave’s lyrics.  Scattered across their records to this point are defiant, life-affirming, and subtly philosophical little glimmers like “What if I say I will never surrender?” (“Pretender), “Memory mend me / Know I’ve seen my share, things I can’t repair / I’m breakin’ to you / Pleased to meet you take my hand, there is no way back from here…” (“No Way Back”), or simply the “On and on and on…” that closes “Aurora.”  On the new album, this space is filled with lines like “Whatever keeps you warm at night / Whatever keeps you warm inside” and “Tell me, now, what’s in it for me?” (“Bridge Burning”) that sound almost selfish and defeatist.  “One of These Days” may give a clue for interpreting them, though; there, the line “But it’s alright, yeah it’s alright,” sounding pat and trite, is followed by a rebellious “Easy for you to say!” suggesting that Dave is playing with some irony.

All of the “Best record since The Colour And The Shape” claims do a serious disservice to the outstanding There Is Nothing Left To Lose, but I understand the feeling.  I’ve already gotten more mileage out of Wasting Light than I felt I had reason to expect, and it will keep cruising for me for a long time.

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All that said, the record I need to tell you about, the record that’s been saving my life this spring, is Nine Types of Light.  And it was a huge disappointment at first.

I love TV On The Radio, and was excited for …Light, but my first spin of it left me thinking “Huh?  Banjo?  And the second half of every song sounding like it doesn’t belong to the first half?  Why does it seem like this band is just playing to my head, not my heart… and not even doing a great job of that?”  I couldn’t be happier that I gave it a second and a third chance.

Now, “Second Song” and “Killer Crane” can make me misty just by their opening bars.  “No Future Shock” and “Caffeinated Consciousness” bounce me up and give me a jolt of verve any time I hear them, on the stereo or just in my head.  The whole record’s subtext, to me, is that it’s OK to be alive, to be human, to be in the time and place I am, and to keep being.  I can’t promise it will sing you those same things in between its notes, but in true evangelistic fashion I can’t avoid sharing with you that that’s what it’s doing for me.

Technically, Nine Types of Light is a small evolutionary step for the band; some fresh textures (like the banjo mentioned earlier, which I can dig at this point, or the pentatonic clean guitar line in “Keep Your Heart”) and new types of songs, but in line with their trajectory to this point.

I would love to give TV On The Radio five stars for their work, but I think too much of my attraction to …Light is personal to justify it.  I don’t know if music culture as a whole will be looking back on this record in 10 or 20 years as a high point, but I’m sure I will be.

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I write this as a Fleet Foxes fan, and someone for whom Helplessness Blues holds many treasures and continues to reveal more; this record will not convert anyone to the band, and while it’s excellent on its own terms, I can’t give it a general recommendation within the purpose of MR|Review (see the end of this post).

Fleet Foxes’ unique musical vocabulary of American folk, indie rock, backwoods harmonies, and art-rock arrangements arrived fully formed on their debut, self-titled LP.  Helplessness Blues takes some risks in expanding that language, and some of them work.  The overall effect has an undertone of self-consciousness and headiness, though, rendering the new album a more distant experience.  The exceptions, such as the first half of the title track, only put the general vibe in relief.

Helplessness Blues is growing on me, but if you are wondering whether to check out Fleet Foxes, get Fleet Foxes.

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Wye Oak’s Civilian was an impulse buy from the Amazon mp3 store’s daily deal, and holds up.  I’m impressed with the guitar work, which adds noise and atmosphere to the already-solid songs, and Civilian combines a broad appeal with a strong aesthetic voice.  The deeper I get into it, the cooler it is.

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Here’s another record that demonstrates that a two-star rating in MR|Review is actually an honorable evaluation.  I have an irrational love for Greg Dulli’s work, whether in The Afghan Whigs or The Twilight Singers, and the Singers’ new Dynamite Steps is a great record for fans, but maybe not newbies.  (That would be Blackberry Belle.)

It hits its marks a little better than Helplessness Blues, though in fairness, it’s less ambitious.  There are rockers, slow burns, and an epic closer.  Its biggest effect on me may be that, for the first time, I’m checking the Singers’ tour dates regularly, hoping to catch them soon.

Dulli’s always played a sort of gorgeously self-destructive romantic, and one thing I think about when I listen to his bands is whether the music speaks to the romantic in me, or whether I take vicarious pleasure at its debauchery precisely because I lack that drive.  Dynamite Steps hasn’t moved me any closer to an answer, but I’m grateful for the provocation, commiseration, and celebration. -h

MR|Review directs readers’ limited attention among works via ratings, and within works via prose, focusing on works where our opinion diverges from critical or popular consensus, or we have significant insight that compliments or challenges readers’ aesthetic experience.