IGN review
Voto: 8.0
Brand new retro conceptual album that breaks free from any blink-182 conventions.
May 31, 2006 - When a high profile band breaks up and the various members splinter into new and different sonic incarnations, it's almost impossible not to compare and contrast the new entities to the old one. This has gone on since time began, folks arguing over whether or not fIREHOSE lived up to the Minute Men legend or if Porno For Pyros would be as good as Jane's Addiction. Hell, even poor Jack White is being bombarded with the comparison/contrast conundrum in reference to The Raconteurs. Let's face it, if you were a successful artist and you give it up and then re-emerge with something new, you're gonna be put underneath the microscope. Sadly that's the way of the world.
The flipside to all of this is that if you were once in a successful band and you put together a new project, you have an automatic fan base, not to mention built in publicity. Folks are gonna use your old fame to promote your new material. It's only natural.
All of this blather is merely leading up to the main thrust of this review: Angels & Airwaves debut album. In case you've been living under a rock that prohibits pop culture detritus from invading your space, A&A is the new project fronted by former blink-182 member Tom DeLonge. Granted this isn't the first that DeLonge broke away from the gravitational pull of blink, but the last time, with Boxcar Racer in 2001/2002, it was with fellow band mate Travis Barker and the two returned to their main money maker shortly after. With A&A, it's a whole new departure for DeLonge, both musically and career-wise, since for all intents and purposes, blink is on a permanent hiatus. Top this off with the fact that there aren't any other blink members in the band and it's more or less a clean slate (with the exception of the specter of blink that DeLonge probably will never be able to escape).
The first thing that you notice about WDNTW is that DeLonge and company--David Kennedy, Ryan Sinn, and Atom Willard--keep things mean and lean. There's only 10 tracks total on the entire album. Granted some of these tracks clock in well over 5-minutes in length, but still it's downright refreshing to see an album that isn't packed to the gills with 22 tracks. The opening salvo, "Valkyrie Missile" is all loping basslines, kinetic percussion, and swirling mist clouds of synth. It creates an electro-prog mode that bleeds out into shimmering pop bliss once DeLonge's familiar whiny twang oozes forth. Let's just say this: if you were expecting the pop/punk posturing of blink, best to take the headphones off and search elsewhere.
Granted the pop styling that DeLonge forged on blink are still intact, but now he's rolling with an almost Flock of Seagulls sensibility. I know it sounds like a bad thing, but it's actually not, as the music hovers in glistening pop euphoria that resonates with an untouchable sense of déjà vu rendering the whole project with a brand new retro vibe.
Nowhere is this more apparent than on the keyboard driven buoyancy of "Distraction." With its jubilant bittersweet intonation (thanks to DeLonge's distinctive twang) and the propulsive soniference, it's power pop of the highest magnitude. Inescapable in its catchiness and almost epic in its delivery.
The epic sonic configurations continue to dominate the album on tracks like the drum heavy "Do It For Me Now," which seeps along thanks to the harmonic inflected guitar histrionics of Kennedy and the lumbering bass ambiance of Sinn. Clanking keyboards and ambient textures glide into "The Adventure," which is a plaintive rumination on undying love (at least that's what the lyrics would suggest). "The War" returns to the drum dominated rhythmic interplay, but the guitar strays from the melodic harmonic jingles to go full-bore crunch. It's easily the most propulsive number on the entire album.
"The Gift" plays counterpoint to "The War," returning to the shimmering guitar flutters and DeLonge bringing his voice down to a whisper/whine. The rolling drums and interwoven guitar and bass structures make for a wonderfully intense diversion. Sure, the U2 references are pretty blatant, but the song is still engaging. With "It Hurts" the jingle is turned into a searing ripple augmented by drum and bass pulses that deteriorate into heartbeat rhythms until DeLonge repeats the words "ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts..." before finally entering into the meat of the song proper.
The final two entries on the album more or less maintain the status quo. "Good Day" is all rolling drums, flirtatious keyboards, and chicken scratch guitar rhythms all topped off by DeLonge's longing vocals, albeit this time they're restrained and generally delivered in a more mellow, less angst ridden demeanor. The sound of faux plinking crystal leads you into "Start The Machine." The bass if fuzzled, the drums muted, and the crystalline tinkling gets buried underneath DeLonge's craggy plea of fear and passion. It all sounds a bit routine, but the conclusion of the song is actually quite mesmerizing and intense.
If there is one singular flaw to the whole of Angels & Airwaves sound it would, sadly, be DeLonge. His tangy whine tends to render all the songs with an overwhelming sense of urgency and angst. With blink he had Mark Hoppus sharing vocal duties and off-setting the sharpness, but here he's front-and-center solo, so his is the only voice we're given. Aside from that, the only other downside is the over reliance on rhythmic guitar harmonics that sound like a fanboy's six-string infatuation with the Edge and Robert Smith. Thankfully the band on the whole deliver some compelling noodling, plus DeLonge's production and Tom Lord-Alge's mix are tight and seamless and teeming with rich ambient textures that swim around in your head.
Detractors will no doubt cry out against the obvious '80s pop/arena rock fetish that DeLonge and company have engaged in, but these same detractors cannot deny that many of the songs on We Don't Need To Whisper are downright catchy in their progressive retro flash-fire. This album is like a post-millennial concept record that beckons to be listened to with the lights dimmed and the headphones clamped tightly around your aural receptors. It needs to soak in, so that DeLonge's Brian Wilson-by-way-of-'90s punk vocal indulgences and the band's classic U2-cum-Cure homage (plus their obvious love of '80s slick, intricate production nuances) can achieve their full impact. It may not be your cup of tea, but kudos to the quartet for not merely re-treading the blink market with more mature lyrics. Perhaps not perfect, but a valiant effort that ultimately yields some beguiling tunes.
- Spence D. (IGN.com)
Brand new retro conceptual album that breaks free from any blink-182 conventions.
May 31, 2006 - When a high profile band breaks up and the various members splinter into new and different sonic incarnations, it's almost impossible not to compare and contrast the new entities to the old one. This has gone on since time began, folks arguing over whether or not fIREHOSE lived up to the Minute Men legend or if Porno For Pyros would be as good as Jane's Addiction. Hell, even poor Jack White is being bombarded with the comparison/contrast conundrum in reference to The Raconteurs. Let's face it, if you were a successful artist and you give it up and then re-emerge with something new, you're gonna be put underneath the microscope. Sadly that's the way of the world.
The flipside to all of this is that if you were once in a successful band and you put together a new project, you have an automatic fan base, not to mention built in publicity. Folks are gonna use your old fame to promote your new material. It's only natural.
All of this blather is merely leading up to the main thrust of this review: Angels & Airwaves debut album. In case you've been living under a rock that prohibits pop culture detritus from invading your space, A&A is the new project fronted by former blink-182 member Tom DeLonge. Granted this isn't the first that DeLonge broke away from the gravitational pull of blink, but the last time, with Boxcar Racer in 2001/2002, it was with fellow band mate Travis Barker and the two returned to their main money maker shortly after. With A&A, it's a whole new departure for DeLonge, both musically and career-wise, since for all intents and purposes, blink is on a permanent hiatus. Top this off with the fact that there aren't any other blink members in the band and it's more or less a clean slate (with the exception of the specter of blink that DeLonge probably will never be able to escape).
The first thing that you notice about WDNTW is that DeLonge and company--David Kennedy, Ryan Sinn, and Atom Willard--keep things mean and lean. There's only 10 tracks total on the entire album. Granted some of these tracks clock in well over 5-minutes in length, but still it's downright refreshing to see an album that isn't packed to the gills with 22 tracks. The opening salvo, "Valkyrie Missile" is all loping basslines, kinetic percussion, and swirling mist clouds of synth. It creates an electro-prog mode that bleeds out into shimmering pop bliss once DeLonge's familiar whiny twang oozes forth. Let's just say this: if you were expecting the pop/punk posturing of blink, best to take the headphones off and search elsewhere.
Granted the pop styling that DeLonge forged on blink are still intact, but now he's rolling with an almost Flock of Seagulls sensibility. I know it sounds like a bad thing, but it's actually not, as the music hovers in glistening pop euphoria that resonates with an untouchable sense of déjà vu rendering the whole project with a brand new retro vibe.
Nowhere is this more apparent than on the keyboard driven buoyancy of "Distraction." With its jubilant bittersweet intonation (thanks to DeLonge's distinctive twang) and the propulsive soniference, it's power pop of the highest magnitude. Inescapable in its catchiness and almost epic in its delivery.
The epic sonic configurations continue to dominate the album on tracks like the drum heavy "Do It For Me Now," which seeps along thanks to the harmonic inflected guitar histrionics of Kennedy and the lumbering bass ambiance of Sinn. Clanking keyboards and ambient textures glide into "The Adventure," which is a plaintive rumination on undying love (at least that's what the lyrics would suggest). "The War" returns to the drum dominated rhythmic interplay, but the guitar strays from the melodic harmonic jingles to go full-bore crunch. It's easily the most propulsive number on the entire album.
"The Gift" plays counterpoint to "The War," returning to the shimmering guitar flutters and DeLonge bringing his voice down to a whisper/whine. The rolling drums and interwoven guitar and bass structures make for a wonderfully intense diversion. Sure, the U2 references are pretty blatant, but the song is still engaging. With "It Hurts" the jingle is turned into a searing ripple augmented by drum and bass pulses that deteriorate into heartbeat rhythms until DeLonge repeats the words "ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts..." before finally entering into the meat of the song proper.
The final two entries on the album more or less maintain the status quo. "Good Day" is all rolling drums, flirtatious keyboards, and chicken scratch guitar rhythms all topped off by DeLonge's longing vocals, albeit this time they're restrained and generally delivered in a more mellow, less angst ridden demeanor. The sound of faux plinking crystal leads you into "Start The Machine." The bass if fuzzled, the drums muted, and the crystalline tinkling gets buried underneath DeLonge's craggy plea of fear and passion. It all sounds a bit routine, but the conclusion of the song is actually quite mesmerizing and intense.
If there is one singular flaw to the whole of Angels & Airwaves sound it would, sadly, be DeLonge. His tangy whine tends to render all the songs with an overwhelming sense of urgency and angst. With blink he had Mark Hoppus sharing vocal duties and off-setting the sharpness, but here he's front-and-center solo, so his is the only voice we're given. Aside from that, the only other downside is the over reliance on rhythmic guitar harmonics that sound like a fanboy's six-string infatuation with the Edge and Robert Smith. Thankfully the band on the whole deliver some compelling noodling, plus DeLonge's production and Tom Lord-Alge's mix are tight and seamless and teeming with rich ambient textures that swim around in your head.
Detractors will no doubt cry out against the obvious '80s pop/arena rock fetish that DeLonge and company have engaged in, but these same detractors cannot deny that many of the songs on We Don't Need To Whisper are downright catchy in their progressive retro flash-fire. This album is like a post-millennial concept record that beckons to be listened to with the lights dimmed and the headphones clamped tightly around your aural receptors. It needs to soak in, so that DeLonge's Brian Wilson-by-way-of-'90s punk vocal indulgences and the band's classic U2-cum-Cure homage (plus their obvious love of '80s slick, intricate production nuances) can achieve their full impact. It may not be your cup of tea, but kudos to the quartet for not merely re-treading the blink market with more mature lyrics. Perhaps not perfect, but a valiant effort that ultimately yields some beguiling tunes.
- Spence D. (IGN.com)