With the release of their major debut album Echoes in 2003, stylish, NYC-based post-punkers the Rapture could not have foreseen the wildly divergent reactions that it would prompt among elite critics and hoards of eager hipsters. Many extolled it in the highest terms, greeting it as the ambitious harbinger of a dance-punk revival. Pitchfork and several other critical outlets hailed it not only as the album of the year, but also as one of the best of the (admittedly young) century. Others were not so inclined. Despite the smash single "House of Jealous Lovers" and the album's overall whirling array of cowbells, spastic buzzes and dropkick beats, many detractors were rightly repelled by lead singer Luke Jenner's whiny and seemingly drunken screeches. Others also perceived its sporadic, furtive sound as obnoxious rather than innovative.
So, how do you follow up such a hotly contested release? Well, like the Strokes with Room on Fire and Franz Ferdinand with You Could Have It So Much Better, the Rapture has forged a streamlined and more aesthetically polished successor with Pieces of the People We Love. It does dutifully revisit the slashing pace and glam-punk of Echoes. Jenner, however, pleasingly eases up on indulging in his grating, inner-Robert Smith vocals while still retaining a clipped delivery. This pursuit of a more dynamically refined sound sadly falters, though, in its excess of glossy, sweaty arrangements and inane lyricism. Pieces of the People We Love comes achingly close to obscuring its flaws with jaunty rhythms and sleek shots of cowbell and handclaps, but its shallow constitution ultimately spoils the effort.
It bodes poorly for an album's quality when the opening number represents the apex of its achievement. But here, the maddeningly infectious "Don Gon Do It," with its thumping groove and compressed low-fuzz effects, does just that. The chorus is delightfully wrapped in scratchy riffs and cowbell beats. But this does not disallow Jenner from showcasing his newfound shiny and inviting delivery as he sings, "You're not, you're not gonna do it/ you're gonna make me cry." "Don Gon Do It" is also instructive in revealing the sonic dynamic that spans nearly every track off Pieces: a typically hollowed-out, bass-driven rhythm is lightly garnished with a smattering of intermittent effects. This is intended to yield an energetically crisp, funky sound. While this unfailingly results, the energy often stagnates and refuses to progress beyond its skittish bop or achieve any sort of authentically layered fusion.
The title track "Pieces of the People We Love" seeks to survive off quick spurts of shivering guitars, rattling effects and synth organs, but the aimlessly sparse sound precludes the flow of any progression. This number, like many others, proceeds with little sense of purpose. After great deliberation, the interminable "First Gear" eventually expands upon its barebones structure. It fails, though, in escaping the undercooked space-drone of its static bass and synth hiccups. These deficiencies seem largely to result from the safe but synthetically unimaginative scheme that the Rapture so consistently implements.
Beyond this, Jenner's stupefying lyricism most damagingly impedes the album's striving for meaningful achievement. It's thematically erratic, complacent and wholly unengaging on any level. "The Devil," despite some diverting orgiastic yelps, features cliché-ridden lines about hedonistic lifestyles and the like: "Lose all control, just let go."
These aren't exactly the height of originality. On "Down For So Long," Jenner evinces shades of his Gnostic leanings when he proclaims, "I've been searching so long" and "The man upstairs don't know what's going on/ we can find out ourselves what's right or wrong." These stale, off-rhyming schemes, combined with the lyrics' literal denotations, amount to truly hapless and lazy lyricism, which may be the most glaring pitfall of Pieces of the People We Love.
In contrast with the album's passable opening numbers, its third act degenerates into a regrettable wallow of darkly crusted riffs and more restrained drifters. The scattered ring sounds of "Calling Me," supported by edgy guitar work, come off more as forced filler than as integral components of a schema. Likewise, "The Sound" sports ironic, 80s-glinted guitars, jittery synths and hopping percussion, which, predictably, unravel into a mess. The sonics remain polished but still flail about with exasperating incoherency. But the album closer "Live in Sunshine" turns frustration into sorrowful pity. With this abortive stab at some sort of floating, chilled aesthetic, the Rapture offer up their most horrendous outing — one that is fully mannered to its core. The pacing and stuttering percussion strangely caused it to resemble Alanis Morissette's 90s hit "Hand In My Pocket," which is not flattering.
The saxophone-drenched, dance floor shaker "Get Myself Into It" and "Whoo! Alright. Yeah-uh-Huh" appeared to exude the stylized charm that the Rapture had intended for all of Pieces of the People We Love. But these are exceptions, Pyrrhic victories in a losing effort. Whatever the actual merits of Echoes, at least it willfully flirted with ambitious achievement and, by extension, outright failure. Pieces does not. However propulsive and unremittingly racing it may be, the album's easy, hollow appeal imposes a limp air onto itself. For more loose pleasure, see the Go Team's joyous debut Thunder, Lightning, Strike or revisit the jangling indie-pop of Hot Hot Heat's Make Up the Breakdown. With the Rapture's latest, you will only find an album of fleeting, glossy thrills.
Grade: 2 out of 5
