Album Reviews: Better Than Ezra and Counting Crows
I presume that longevity, as a performer in the music
industry, is incredibly difficult. How do you continue to record new material,
and make your fan base care about that, as time goes on? How do your fans grow
with you? Or is it a case of arrested development (not the band, not the show)
and that after a certain point, nobody gives a shit about new songs from
you—you go on tour, and the crowd just wants to hear the hits that they know
the words to?
The idea of both Better Than Ezra AND Counting Crows
releasing new albums within a week of one another, in the year 2014, is a
ridiculous prospect to me, and my reaction to it was pretty much a wee-bey.gif.
Both are bands I once loved dearly when I was younger—I loved Better Than Ezra
so much that I decided to write a thinkpiece last year on the 15th
anniversary of their much maligned third album, How Does Your Garden Grow?
And both are bands that I stopped paying attention to about
five or six years ago—with the Counting Crows, it was after their fifth studio
album, 2008’s Saturday Night and Sunday
Morning; a long gestating record, it failed to deliver on the “gritty” tone
that had been promised in the months leading up to it. It was just another
overproduced, at times saccharine, album from Adam Durtiz and company.
Similiarly, with Better Than Ezra, their last album was
released five years ago—2009’s Paper
Empire. I did legitimately like the single: the anthematic “Absolutely
Still,” but at the time (preparing for my wedding) I wasn’t buying a ton of music.
This was before I really knew how to use the internet to…obtain…albums, and
after sampling the record on a listening station at a Barnes and Noble, I was a
little leery of buying it.
In the press materials for the new Better Than Ezra album
that I read online, it mentions that the band recorded it “together” in a
studio, rather than relying so heavily on Pro Tools and overdubbing, which was
apparently how they made Paper Empire.
Griffin says, “These days with digital recording, Pro Tools etc., you can
really put an album together piecemeal… (producer) Tony Hoffer has a magical
room in Highland Park, CA, and we just set up shop there. It’s no coincidence
that the record has a vibrancy that I think our last album lacked.” Which
basically tells me that he thought their last record sucked big time.
But hey you guys. It’s okay. This one is way better.
Only not really. All
Together Now does not sound like people made it; let alone three people
operating as a band in a studio space. Falling into Coldplay territory (“big
pop” Coldplay) the moment I hit the play button on this record, I started
cringing, and it never left my face.
Getting back to the aforementioned question of longevity in
the industry, when is it acceptable for a band to dramatically change their
sound? How Does Your Garden Grow was
not so much “commercial suicide,” but it was hard to access. And even at its
poppiest and goofiest moments, there was still something endearing about just
how weird and experimental it was.
I don’t know if getting dropped from their label because of
that record sent BTE back into some kind of safe/tepid zone for songwriting,
but their last 13 years of material (only four record, really) have all been
very sterile sounding. There’s both an odd mix of humor and earnestness in
their music, and it isn’t very palatable at times. Long gone are the guitar
driven rock sounds of “King of New Orleans” or even “In the Blood.”
I mean, the opening line of “Crazy Lucky” is probably one of
the worst things I have ever uttered in pop music—“There are six and three quarter billion people in this world, And 51
percent of them are girls. You roll your eyes like I'm full of it—but I Googled
that shit.”
All Together Now is insipid, even for pop
music, making an album like Katy Perry’s Prism
look the lyrics were co-written by David Foster Wallace and Christopher
Hitchens. It’s insufferable, and borders on unlistenable.
The new album from Counting Crows, Somewhere Under Wonderland, is also insufferable, insipid, and
unlistenable, but in a slightly different way. As a figure in popular music,
Adam Duritz’s personal life (balling his way through young female actresses)
somewhat overshadows the band’s music, which has, within the last 13 years,
become incredibly uninspired and bland. The last time the band sounded urgent
was in 1999, with This Desert Life,
but since then, the expression “diminishing returns” doesn’t even begin to
describe their output.
There are a lot of big, loud sounding guitars on the record,
maybe in an effort to harken back to Recovering
The Satellites, but those songs actually had some depth to them. There is
little to no depth anywhere on this album, though throughout the nine tracks,
Duritz postures like the dreadlocked poet and tortured soul he still believes
himself to be, and lyrically, I think I injured my eyes I was rolling them so
hard at this shit show. Musically speaking, on Somewhere Under Wonderland, the band seems to be going out of their
way to remind you that they are, also, in fact people in a studio—with many
drumstick count offs being left at the beginning of the tracks. Working with
producer Brian Deck (of Iron and Wine, and Modest Mouse fame) the band has
opted to scale back on Deck’s studio effects and trickery, in favor of a bland,
adult contemporary, easily forgettable sound.
In attempting to make it through both of these records, I
had to wonder about who the intended audience is. The Counting Crows still have
a following, I guess, with Somewhere
Under Wonderland making it into the top ten records on the Billboard chart.
I guess I need to check myself before I wreck myself, and not limit my music
news to Pitchfork—because I seriously had no clue that this album came out or
that it was something that people apparently needed in their lives.
No offense to Better Than Ezra, though, but I have to wonder
if All Together Now will even “chart”
as they say in the biz. The band still tours regularly, and has a huge
following in their native Louisiana, but if you went to see them at, say, the
Varsity Theatre in Minneapolis, how many people are really going to want to
hear new material? How many people are just going to scream “Shut up and play
‘Good!’”
In the movie High
Fidelity, Jack Black’s obnoxious character asks the question “Is it better
to burn out, than to fade away?” Both products of the 1990s, Better Than Ezra
and Counting Crows could have bowed out somewhat gracefully at decade’s end,
but instead, they both chose to solider on, not so much damaging a “legacy,”
but filling their canon with what, to me anyway, is just disposable and
forgettable, making them both those bands that you used to like. You see their
name on a tour schedule and your heart perks up a little, but you know you
won’t go to see them. Maybe you have crippling anhedonia and concert anxiety
like me, or maybe you just don’t want to drop $30 to $50 hear songs you don’t
know the words to. Maybe you still have your old Counting Crows and Better Than
Ezra CDs—I do. The first three BTE albums are actually still on the shelf in
our living room—the Crows, however, have long been taking up space on the “B
Squad” collection of music in the basement.
Maybe when you do find out an artist you used to like has a
new album, you find it within to feign interest, only to realize that there’s a
reason you stopped listening to them regularly in the first place.
If you, like, hate your life or love adult contemporary bullshit, or maybe a little of both, Somewhere Under Wonderland and All Together Now are both out at this very moment, via Capitol and The End Records, respectively.
If you, like, hate your life or love adult contemporary bullshit, or maybe a little of both, Somewhere Under Wonderland and All Together Now are both out at this very moment, via Capitol and The End Records, respectively.
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