Album Review: Failure - The Heart is A Monster

Trying to think about Failure’s reunion album, The Heart is A Monster, their first in 19 years, is like thinking about the second season of “True Detective.”

I guess that seems like trying compare apples to a fruit nobody has ever heard of before—one is a television series, still in its infancy, that had an astoundingly successful first season and is trying to follow it up with an entirely new cast and premise; the other is the follow up to an album that has built up a massive cult following since its original release in 1996, getting name checked as one of the most influential records of the 1990s.

But the way you should go into both of these things is with an open mind and no expectations as to what might be waiting for you on the other side.

My history with and deeply rooted love for Failure was well documented when I wrote a thinkpiece on their reunion in February of last year, so it’s not something that is worth going into again when the real focus is on the future of the band, not on the past.

Early work on the record began in 2013, with the group then officially announcing their reunion in 2014. At the start of this year, the Pledge Music campaign launched as a way to take pre-orders for the then unfinished record, as well as bevy of other extras in the way of incentives for fans to assist in funding the recording and post-production process.

Arriving at 18 tracks total—12 songs and 6 instrumental “segue” pieces, the album is like—well it’s more than like, it is, the grown up version of the band you heard on Fantastic Planet. What that means is that it’s still the same band, and still the same sound—they’ve just matured as songwriters and musicians.

Fantastic Planet was a “go for broke” kind of album; recorded in a rented house, the band worked on it one song at a time, until each was completed. It was unnerving, complicated, visceral, and raw—with frontman Ken Andrews just beginning to learn his way around the board as a mixer and producer. It also was an incredibly dark record—with multi-instrumentalist Greg Edwards writing a bulk of the lyrics, it focused on alienation, disconnection, and famously—crippling heroin addiction.

In the time that has passed, Andrews attempted three post-Failure endevaours: the solo electronic-based project On, the return to rock with Year of The Rabbit, and finally, a proper solo album released under his own name in 2007. In the last 20 years, however, he’s become better known as a sought after producer and mixer, and through that, he’s honed his sound: it’s crisp and densely layered—and it’s those pristine production values that he brings to the table on The Heart is A Monster.

It’s a huge and gorgeous sounding record—the rhythm guitars are loud and heavy; and the guitar solos are searing and distended. The bass slaps and chordal strums resonate deep, and Kellii Scott’s powerful and unhinged drumming packs a weighty punch.

Lyrically, obviously Edwards has overcome his vices—the band all has at this point, so the ominous tone from Fantastic Planet has been replaced with more abstract, yet more accessible ideas.

Overall, The Heart is A Monster is an exponentially more accessible record than its predecessor, primarily because of the growth of both Andrews and Edwards—who, has spent the last 15 years or so in the like-minded, art rock band Autolux. But more so, the album is accessible because of the hooks: they are gigantic. While Fantastic Planet can be catchy at times—hell, “Stuck on You” uses a pop song as a metaphor; it was still more about the overall feeling of the song and the record taken as a whole, as opposed to listenability.

The Heart is A Monster has hooks for days. The focus is obviously on writing catchy, rock-driven pop songs that still deliver when it comes to that “Failure” sound. In that case, the record is, for the most part, as success.

Right out of the gate, on the record’s first single, “Hot Traveler,” the band shows it’s not here to fuck around. It’s heavy duty—especially at the end, with Andrews’ vocal snarl backed by Scott’s aggressive percussive pounding. But it’s also a song that’s got a refrain that sticks in your head long after you’ve stopped listening.

It’s something similar they do with the first official reunion single—last summer’s “Come Crashing,” as well as the enormous guitar waves of the driving “A.M. Amnesia,” and the enormous slow motion grandeur of “Snow Angel” and “Counterfeit Sky.”

What I mean when I say that the record arrives as a grown up version of Fantastic Planet is that rather than painstakingly crafting a cohesive narrative held together by specific themes (both musical and lyrical) they’ve grown into making a rock album. It shows growth and maturity, and it also caters to their original fan base, all of who are obviously now 20+ years older.

Many bands are the kinds that don’t grow with you—meaning you can’t take their music with you as you age.  I’ve been listening to Fantastic Planet for over half of my life, and now here Failure are again, and they too are older. They’ve grown up, and The Heart is A Monster is a grown up rock record for grown ass people. It’s rooted in the present, but still pays tribute to the band’s past—specifically with the reworking of “Petting The Carpet,” an outtake originally recorded for their debut record, Comfort, and the album’s final song, the reserved, somber “I Can See Houses,” dates back even farther, and was used in a montage of footage in the band’s DVD release Golden.

It also gives Edwards a chance to shine more as a vocalist—he always held down backing vocal duties, trading off with Andrews between bass and guitar. Here he trades off lines with Andrews on the slithering “Atomic City Queen” and on the piano driven, slow burning “Mulholland Dr.,” a song that musically, owes a lot to Edwards’ work with Autolux.

Even as revered as Fantastic Planet is, it is by no means a perfect record—both “Pillowhead” and “Leo” were always inessential tracks for me. The same can be said for The Heart is A Monster. It’s not flawless, nor does it need to be. Structurally, it’s frontloaded, which makes the pacing a little off by the time you hit second of the double LP.  The back half sandwiches in four segue tracks, sometimes arriving after just one song.

And not every song works, and those all seem to be tucked into he album’s final sequence: the punky “Fair Light Era” and “The Focus” (another one of the 2014 reunion singles released) aren’t bad per se, but they are also not the strongest material on the record.

In the end, The Heart is A Monster is a welcome return for the band. But, as a fan, any return of Failure would be welcome. Reunion or “come back” records are a tricky thing—you have to generate enough interest with new material for people to care and not just scream “shut up and play the hits” at your live shows. Failure wisely went on a tour last year where they played nothing but the hits for over two hours, getting all that out of their system, to allow themselves and their fans to ease into the idea of new songs.

When I was 14, Fantastic Planet was a grower. It took a long time for it to reveal itself to me for what it was, and why it would be one of the most important records of my formative years. At nearly 32, The Heart is A Monster is, in a sense, is also a grower. It takes a few listens for you to get over the shock of a new record from Failure, but then you realize that time is a flat circle, and you can really begin to enjoy this for what it is. It’s a surprisingly fun listen, and it’s one of the few times in 2015 that I have been legitimately excited about a record that has been released.

The Heart is A Monster is out now on CD, 2xLP (standard weight and 180g), and digital download, from the band's Pledge Music site.