Guilty Pleasure Revisited: Yes

Like many adolescents in the 70s, I went through your standard prog-rock phase. I was a junkie for Gabriel-era Genesis and pre-Belew King Crimson. I waded into the murk of ELP and Tull and the pre-pop Moody Blues. But the convergence of my discovery of punk, and hitting the bottom of the prog barrel (ELP's Tarkus, anyone? Tull's Passion Play?), pretty much led to my setting these bands aside for a decade or two. These days I'm much more comfortable taking my old faves out for the occasional spin (though I'd have to say that Tull and ELP are pretty much permanently exiled). Oddly, and perhaps embarassingly, I've been spending a lot of time listening to Yes -- perhaps the one mainstream prog band I truly hated back in the day. Whether it was Anderson's paint-peeling vocals or the epic, horrifyingly self-indulgent suites, I just never liked this band. Yet for some reason I'm spending a lot of time with them these days. The recent series of remasters sounds fantastic, and my appreciation of their instrumental prowess, however over-the-top, allows me to frequently get past my continuing annoyance with Anderson's voice. Is it reasonable to mock the band's indulgences (i.e. the 4-track, 4-lp-side behemoth Tales From Topographic Oceans, anyone?)? You betcha. Do the goofy druggy sci-fi lyrics continue to cause minor reflexive retching? Of course. But I can somehow get lost in the beauty of Relayer's finer passages, no questions asked.

Please don't tell anyone, though. Thanks.

Review: Luna, Rendezvous

After 13 or so years, Luna is apparently calling it quits. I'm not sure if it's out of respect for this great band that many critics have raved about Rendezvous, purportedly their final album, but, alas, I've gotta say I find it pretty weak. The first half of the band's existence was fantastic, a nice mix of Velvety drones and post-R.E.M. murky indie jangle hooks and retro-60s psychedelic grooves, but since their peak with 1995's Penthouse (and 1997's underrated Pup Tent), there's been a real lack of edge to their work. The more catchy pop tunes have been replaced by a languid, sexy groove -- many fine moments to play in the background while popping a bottle of champagne in a dark room, but not a lot of songs you'd be inclined to pay a lot of attention to -- and that same feel pervades much of Rendezvous. That's not to say it isn't a good album; Wareham's Reed-like sung-spoken warble can still captivate, and a few hooks do rise to the surface (i.e. the chipper "Malibu Love Nest," the simple guitar-driven "Buffalo Boots"). And this may appeal more to fans of Wareham's earlier band Galaxie 500 -- like much of that band's work, many of these songs start with a simple, understated verse/chorus structure and then veer into crescendoing trippy guitar raves. Unfortunately, the better moments are diluted by a couple contributions from guitarist Sean Eden; his songs aren't bad, but lack Wareham's distinctive style. Bottom line -- longtime fans will find moments here to love, but casual listeners or newbies should stick with Luna's glory days.

Semi-Guilty Pleasure: Death Cab For Cutie

I came to Death Cab For Cutie's 2003 near-masterpiece Transatlanticism a few months late (i.e. mid-2004), not because the band was apparently popularized on the O.C. -- a show I'll have you know I only see in fits and starts because my wife is watching, sort of like Desperate Housewives, and don't even get me started on Survivor... but I digress -- but because my local library had a copy and I decided to give it a try. I'd seen the band name-checked by usually trustworthy sources (long before this album, and the O.C.-inspired fame/infamy), but for some reason had never quite gotten hooked. But either I missed something in those earlier efforts, or this is a marked departure, because one listen and I totally fell in love with this disc. Actually, that's only semi-accurate. It took a few listens. And with each listen, I liked it more and more. It's sonically adventurous, lyrically striking, and really hits that balance between post-Pavement indie rawk and Elliott Smith-ish introspective folk-balladry. But you can hear more about it on the O.C., so enough from me. But damn if this isn't one fine, fine disc.

Reviews: Cosmic Rough Riders/Daniel Wylie

The Cosmic Rough Riders (in their original incarnation) were a briefly-lived, little-known but much-loved band of Scottish mellow popsters following closely in the footsteps of countrymen Teenage Fanclub -- in other words, lots of jangly guitars, simple melodies, and soaring harmonies. And much as with TF's later albums, the CRRs had a few painfully wonderful songs tucked in among a fair amount of bland (though thoroughly unobjectionable) filler. They split up after just a few singles & albums, only to return in 2004 in two halves: Lead singer Daniel Wylie put out a solo album, Ramshackle Beauty, while the rest of the band soldiered on under the Cosmic Rough Riders moniker, releasing Too Close To See Far. Surprisingly, both albums turned out far better than one would have expected; rather than two halves being less than the whole (see, e.g., the post-Olivia Tremor Control splinter bands for a sad example of that; or, for that matter, our old friends the Beatles), we got two new albums that are every bit as good as the original.

In other words -- decent, bland, but ultimately pleasantly enjoyable as inconsequential background pop. CRR's Too Close sounds... well, a lot like Wylie-era CRR (and, again, like latter day Teenage Fanclub). Guitars still jangle, harmonies still soar. The lead vocals are marginally less distincitve than Wylie's, but his was never a terribly distinctive voice to begin with, so the change is almost immaterial. For better or worse, no matter how many hooks they throw at you, the album never quite rises above "pretty good." For a US analogy, consider Matthew Sweet side project The Thorns -- yes, the songs are pretty, the vocals lovely, a few tracks even downright catchy, but when it's over can you name more than 2 or 3 of these? Probably not. But slide this puppy into the disc player next time you entertain, and nobody's gonna complain -- pure likeability. Then we've got Wylie's album, which, when you come right down to it, is pretty much the same thing. Jangling guitars, pop hooks, soaring harmonies. Ramshackle Beauty might be the marginally edgier affair, with a few tracks that break the mold here and there (i.e. some punched up guitar distortion or new wavey keyboard fills), and Wylie's vocals have a more noticeable nasal quality to 'em -- at times I'm reminded of Weezer, or even They Might Be Giants. Pushed to choose between the two, I'd have to pick Wylie's as the slightly more interesting disc, with the CRRs' as the slightly more smoothly palatable one. Fortunately, there's no reason to choose, and any fan of mellow indie pop, while no doubt living a perfectly contented life without either of these, would be perfectly happy with both. (Unfortunately, the Wylie disc is much harder to find in the States, available only as a high-priced import.)