Imagine this scenario: you have a brand-new CD in your hands, and you're eager to begin the arduous task of ripping off its airtight plastic seal and popping it into your CD player. Haven't felt a CD case nor seen a CD player since your sophomore year in high school? Okay, imagine you have a brand-new set of songs that you downloaded from your network. You play the first song on iTunes and allow the joyous sound of fresh melodies wash over your ears. As the song continues, you go about your usual activities. After quite some time, you realize that this particular song seems exceptionally long. You click back to your iTunes, and realize that you're already made it through seven tracks. Could it be that all the songs in this new batch sound so identical that you missed transitions between each and every one?
Now imagine that the music you're listening to is Fivespeed's new album, Morning Over Midnight, and you've just projected exactly what will happen should you choose to embark on such a venture in reality. Only it'll be worse — your first listen certainly won't be joyous, as these melodies are anything but fresh, and the entire album will be over by the time you realize there's been a song change.
Hailing from Phoenix, Ariz., Fivespeed is a straight-up rock band that tries with admirable strength to draw attention away from their appallingly mundane sound. Their first full-length album since 2002's Trade in Your Halo, Morning Over Midnight is a collection of ten banal tracks that lead singer Jared Woosley describes with the laughably incorrect statement, "No two songs sound the same. It's exciting to hear — even for us."
It's unclear exactly what constitutes "exciting" for Woosley and his band mates, but if it happens to be hackneyed lyrics sung for forty minutes over the same guitar riff, then their album certainly fits his description.
It is dubious, however, as to what makes songs such as "Lights" exciting. Featuring a hoarse Woosley wailing vindictively about a girl who's wronged him, the song features a resentful, if not slightly misogynic, attitude that's common to most of the tracks. The most prominent example of this immature approach is "Blame It On You," which features the lines, "I stopped caring from the time I saw you didn't need me / You never needed me / I blame it on you." Charming.
The band then switches from adolescent selfishness to adolescent rebelliousness on "Touch of One," in which Woosley attempts defiance with "Hey what'd you say? / Did you think you could control me for so long / You and your whole damn army couldn't hold me back now." Threatening, really.
Although lyrics like these aren't likely to rouse anyone to excitement, Fivespeed seems to be proud of the messages their songs offer. Why, then, does Woosely's voice fade so far into the background that establishing familiarity is rendered impossible? Maybe it's part of the "hard rock" sound that they're attempting to pull off, but singing as if you're being channeled through the whale tank at Sea World isn't the best way to present your lyrics.
Seeing as though lyrics are only one part of a song, there's hope that maybe Fivespeed could make up for their senseless rhymes with solid music. Unfortunately, such is not the case. The band plays with power but doesn't know how to use it — each song uses generally the same three-chord guitar riffs and noisy drum beats. With no musical difference between each track, it's difficult for any to stand out. The result is an album of essentially one song, hence the iTunes disaster scenario.
The most frustrating aspect of Morning Over Midnight is not its lousy lyrics or poor musical style, but its utter dullness. The album falls like a thud, and not even a powerful one. It'd even be a stretch to call this album a mess, because a mess implies that there are vastly different elements thrown together haphazardly. A mess often results in unexpected beauty, a type of beauty rock bands typically strive for. Led Zeppelin is a mess. Nirvana is a mess. Fivespeed, on the other hand, is slop — the same elements are thrown together with a single sweep of carelessness.
However, Morning Over Madness is Fivespeed's second major-label album, so there must be someone somewhere who thinks their brand of slop is worthwhile. Then again, Creed is a band with many hits to their name, and Three Doors Down's latest album is on its way to platinum. Given the astonishingly large realm of bland-yet-successful rock acts in contemporary music, Fivespeed could have a chance. From the sound of Morning Over Madness, however, they certainly don't deserve one.
