It seems like 2004 has been a tough yet lively year for musical veterans. Just in the last few months, Wilco followed up their 2002 sonic masterpiece Yankee Hotel Foxtrot with the questionable, noise-inspired A Ghost is Born and Bjork followed up her icy, intimate endeavor Vespertine (2001) with the spectral, vocal concept album Medulla. Then, in late September, two musical entities that had already established themselves, Interpol and Travis Morrison of The Dismemberment Plan, released the albums that finally answered their anxious fans’ anticipatory question: What the hell can they do next?
Interpol emerged in 2002 with its introductory masterpiece Turn on the Bright Lights. The album was puzzling in that although the band was in its infancy, the music it created revealed an astounding maturity. The band is ostensibly rooted in the New York rock scene that has produced such newcomers as the Strokes, but Interpol set itself apart with a greater emphasis on production. This was especially apparent in the guitars, which were soaked in reverb and delay and saturated the sonic landscape. Additionally, its drum and bass section set the bar with its fluidity, precision and inventiveness. Finally, Paul Banks gave the album its gloomy emotional undertone with his introspective musings and ominously strange imagery.
The Dismemberment Plan released a trilogy of albums from 1997 to 2001 that showed it growing from unbridled youth to slightly jaded maturity. Each of these albums relied on the frontman, Travis Morrison, whose neurotic yet charismatic vocal style invited music listeners to revel in the normal chaos of his personal life. His lyrics drew from brutal honesty and insight that were fashioned into captivating, detailed stories. In 2001, the release of the album Change suggested that the Plan was in the winter of its career, as Morrison sang in a resigned tone without the ferocity of his previous work. However, three years later, he released an album separate from the Dismemberment Plan.
Both Interpol and Morrison found themselves in an interesting position as they prepared their new albums for last September’s release. On the one hand, there was Interpol, a band that up to that point had released only one album, but one that was so cohesive and definitive in sound that there was no way to imagine Interpol releasing a better follow up. On the other hand, there was Morrison who had come to a comfortable resting place in the span of the Dismemberment Plan releases. Is there room for emotional growth even though he had already embraced maturity in Change? September 28, Interpol proved that it wasn’t just a one hit wonder while Morrison drowned by swimming too far from his element.
Although it may not sound this way at first, Interpol’s new release Antics is a lot different than Turn on the Bright Lights. Sure, the band’s musical foundation is still in tact, but the production, emotional undertone and album structure depart from previous work. While Turn on the Bright Lights was a complete musical statement showing real emotional growth and resolution from beginning to end, Antics is simply a collection of tightly written, radio friendly pop songs (an anti-album if you will). Antics garners its cohesiveness in its complete lack of cohesiveness. The guitars have lost their trademark brew of reverb and delay and instead display an aggressive, lashing overdrive or a warm legato distortion. The bass is more fluid and playful and requires careful listening as it is understated and usually hides under the blanket of guitars. The drums are just as amorphous but now showcase more complex high hat work that adds to resounding dance ability. Finally, Banks has an uncanny vocal presence and takes a lighter approach to his lyrics and emotional tone.
Morrison’s new release Travistan is simply a train wreck. The music tries to vary in style but ends up sounding like a cheap version of the Plan. It’s worth admitting that there are some redeemable aspects to the music and even some elements that could pass as creative such as atonal synthesizer squawks and bursts of electronic drums. However, all the positive aspects of Travistan are overshadowed by Morrison’s laughably lame, uncreative lyrics and his poor sense of melody. The only people that should consider buying this album are diehard Dismemberment Plan freaks that are willing to sink with the ship. The main problem with Travistan is that Morrison strayed from the intimate qualities that made his delivery so tantalizing in the past and kept the musical qualities that could naturally change without the confines of other band members.
These two albums demonstrate that it’s important to keep your strengths in mind when making a follow up album because change is good, but only when it still has a foundation to rest upon. Interpol may have given up the flow of an album for uniformity, but it still proves it’s got what it takes to offer diverse cannon of music. On the other hand Morrison has detached himself from his audience and only changed his music for the worse. It’s okay though, we’ll always love the Plan and his contribution will be imprinted on every indie rocker’s heart for years.
Antics: A/B
Travistan: C/D
