Barenaked Ladies - All in Good Time

Taken as a double-disc release, BNL's last album Barenaked Ladies Are Me was one of the best (and most underappreciated) record of the '00s. Part of that problem was that they released the album independently and it had little-to-no mainstream impact. That shame was compounded by co-lead singer Steven Page's cocaine-related arrest and his subsequent departure from the band two years later. So now, continuing as a four-piece band without half of their traditional singing/songwriting team, BNL strikes back with All in Good Time. If this good album isn't the should-be-classic that its predecessor Are Me was, that can be chalked up to a very good band being caught in transition.

It's easy to find references to Page throughout the album, since the band addresses his departure (not so subtly) right away with the first song on the album, "You Run Away." It's a somber pop ballad that tempers its melancholic melody with some almost acrimonious lyrics in the chorus ("I'll give you something you can cry about.") The words are the story of a close friendship deteriorating, and they cast shadows across the rest of the album. So, when Robertson sings, "Can you forgive me for what I had to do? I'd use a metaphor but I'm done with you," on the hard-rocking, "I Have Learned," it's hard not to think about Page, even if the song isn't overtly about him. The little lyrical flourishes of anger and betrayal abound, but so do notes of forgiveness and acceptance. The album gets its title from an upbeat iTunes bonus song, which goes "In time the pain heals at least, all in good time." It's sung by Kevin Hearn, whose fragile voice is usually accompanied by folksier instrumentation on the songs he sings, and it goes a long way towards indicating that All in Good Time might just hold the necessary lashing out in anger that the band needed to unload hand-in-hand with the notes of reconciliation and growth they need to move forward.

The emotions of its backstory also color the album's sonic palette, which in places is more aggressive than anything this traditionally pop band have ever done. "Summertime," which follows "You Run Away," sets this tone by wrapping an otherwise charming song about surviving the winter and hoping for summer inside positively Zeppelin-esque riffs played jarringly on chunky, fuzzy guitar. More straight-forward rock can be heard in the simmering "I Have Learned" and "How Long," which builds towards a ripping guitar solo in the classic rock tradition. True, this is rock music through the BNL prism, which is admittedly brighter than just about any rock band in history, but for BNL they recall little before them except "Wind It Up" from Are Me.

Most of the album, however, is good ol' BNL pop, continuing their ongoing maturing process that's been developing over the decades. For those who only know BNL as "One Week," "Another Postcard," and "If I Had $1,000,000," the level of maturity and (yes) artistry in their back catalog may be surprising. While All in Good Time doesn't have any stone-cold classics on first listen, it is a solid entry in their discography. It's a less "fun" album, more akin to Maroon in that sense, with a few other moments worth mentioning. "Four Seconds" has to be written about. It's a concoction that sounds like Beck sampled Django Reinhardt, and then Ed Robertson throws some of his "One Week" freestyling flow over it. It's endlessly listenable, somehow. "Watching the Northern Lights" deserves praise, too. Another Kevin Hearn song, it's a ballad winsomely sung over echoing guitar that slowly morph into looping synths. It's a subtle effect that elevates a lovely tune. It's also the kind of trick BNL should be known for, instead of their unfortunate reputation as a band singing sophomoric songs about monkeys and other novelty ephemera.

BNL isn't just a band in transition within themselves; they're a band that's lost their place in the culture. Novelty humor pop has moved on to the Lonely Island and Flight of the Conchords, but that's never the genre BNL was comfortable in. Their brand of genuine alternapop is perhaps usurped by fellow Canadians, Stars (also due to release an album this year.) None of the songs on All in Good Time will likely crack the top 40 and BNL is probably too old and with too much perceived baggage to be accepted by the indie pop community. They are, however, back with major label distribution, so there is hope. If there's one thing that can be learned, it's that the Barenaked Ladies aren't going to be calling it quits. It just remains to be seen if they have any more hits in them.

She & Him - Volume Two

She & Him are the pair of indie songsmith M. Ward and actress/singer Zooey Deschanel. Their first record, Volume One, came from out of nowhere in the spring of 2008 to sweep the indie pop landscape off its feet with bittersweet, swooning pop songs tinged with hints of country and folk balladry. Volume Two now comes around to pick up where the duo left off, and there isn't a hitch in its step.

The opening track, "Thieves," recalls Roy Orbison not just lyrically but also in the musical build to its triumphant close. As strings swirl around her, Deschanel's delicate and imperfect voice rises to the songs' climax. The Orbison comparisons are only furthered by the incidental fact that she's singing about one of the legend's favorite topics: crying. It's followed by the lead single, "In the Sun," which glides on a sturdier rock beat and winds up with Ward letting loose some of the most rapid-fire guitar She & Him have featured yet. The contemporariness of "In the Sun" is an exception to the rule, however. She & Him are excellent nostalgists and they return to the '60s sunshine pop with the next tune, appropriately titled, "Don't Look Back." (Even its title recalls the '60s, though it's not a cover of the Temptations' hit of the same name.)

They do cover a few songs on Volume Two, the first of which is a lovely reading of NRBQ's "Ridin' in My Car," which in their hands works as a sweet little duet and fits right into the She & Him aesthetic. The guitar jangle and comforting melody of the original are a perfect choice for She & Him's light, warm brand of comfort-food pop. The other cover is of Skeeter Davis' version of "Gonna Get Along Without You Now," and is equally as successful a reincarnation as its cover-song companion on the album. Where Davis' version covers the heartbreak of the lyric with a mask of nonchalance, She & Him take the opportunity to cover both of their preferred territories, melancholy and jubilance, simultaneously.

What the covers serve to illustrate is the strength of Deschanel's writing. As on Volume One, she is the songwriter of record here and the quality of her writing hasn't been as commented on as her lazy, dreamy voice. Ward certainly does yeoman's work fleshing out the arrangements, and does a great job of music anthropology not unlike T-Bone Burnett's work reconstructing the sounds of old for films like O Brother, Where Art Thou? and Walk the Line. Ward's music wouldn't be in service of anything if it weren't for Deschanel's lilting melodies that sound like they've unearthed standards all this time. Tracks like, "Home," "Lingering Still" and "Over It Over Again," break down the cynic's defenses and bask in the sunshine of a radio station endlessly playing new songs as yet unheard from the '60s and '70s. Their first album's cover was entirely apropos for, if they keep going like this, they may come to represent a star forever radiating golden rays of countrified sunshine pop.

She & Him are clearly a throwback act. Their songs ring with the joy and innocence of pop gone by and, for some, the lack of irony in their presentation makes such unfiltered doses a hard pill to swallow. Its understandable. Pop music is always evolving, and there are always nostalgia acts keeping the past alive. From the swing of Brian Setzer to the crooning of Michael Bublé, there's always a market for contemporary resurrection in music. She & Him represent an indie group making the nostalgia trip accessible for another market. As with any nostalgia group, any success they have will be considered novelty or guilty pleasure by some, but for those who do the enjoying, it's bliss.

Vampire Weekend - Contra

On their debut album, Vampire Weekend name-checked Peter Gabriel. On their second album, they actually begin to sound like him.

Much has been written about these quirky hipster college kids and their cute, slightly afrobeat-influenced band. They made a splash kicking off 2008 with one of the first albums to be released of that year and repeat that timing in 2010. Contra arrives with lead singer/guitarist Ezra Koenig still writing twee-er-than-thou lyrics and the rest of the band chiming in with their shouted rhythmic "ay!"'s over some choruses. The major difference with Contra is that Vampire Weekend seem to be "maturing."

Songs on Vampire Weekend seemed to unspool with the chaotic energy of a band (no matter how staid compared to their peers) recording their first big splash of a debut album. Here, the songs don't have that energy at all. Opener "Horchata", the first song the blogosphere was exposed to from this set, sounds almost microscopically designed to present Vampire Weekend's "next step." The previous album's African tinge morphs into a Caribbean twinge. It seems like they shifted parts of their sound in a new direction, but the parts they didn't shift don't feel like a foundation. It's akin to moving only the black squares of a checkers board; experimenting with their sound without giving the experiment form.

So here we have synthesized beats (on more than a few tracks.) We have a murkier production, especially in the Brian Eno-lite ambience of "I Think Ur a Contra." It's these influences that make Vampire Weekend remind one of Peter Gabriel, only without the songcraft or vocal chops of the British worldbeat mystic. "I Think Ur a Contra" is also notable as being more down-tempo than any of the songs from their first record, a repeated occurrence on the album. Some songs on Contra are successful ("Taxi Cab", the best song on the new album, is the only one that sounds like it's a unified whole while simultaneously being good.) Most aren't. Perhaps it's the sophomore slump; one can only hope the half-formed experimentation yields a better whole next time, leaving a worthy mistake in its tread for this second album.

Where individual songs succeed, they only serve to provide the overriding criticism of the new album. "Taxi Cab"'s delicate, Magnetic Fields-like piano lilt reveals an emotional grace lacking in the other songs. "Horchata"'s tropical joy overshadows colder, bleaker soundscapes on the other upbeat tunes. "Run"'s punchy rhythms leaves the punk drive of the lead single, "Cousins", in the dust simply by sounding appropriate within its song. There are worthy songs on Contra, just not as many as on Vampire Weekend. So then there is hope for this band, as they are still young and this is just their second album. They may not become who we expected them to when their first album hit, but let's hope they get better than where this album shows them heading.