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Each listen to Polara's radiant new album Jetpack Blues
magnifies the Minneapolis trio's accomplishments. Based on the
evidence here, singer/multi-instrumentalist and songwriter Ed
Ackerson is a rock 'n' roll visionary of the highest order, with a
resplendent feel for the dynamics of record construction, a gift for
massive, irresistible choruses, and a knack for weaving all kinds of
divergent elements into seamless wholes.
Ackerson has such a capacity for songs, it would be easy to label him
a classicist like Noel Gallagher of Oasis. That, however, would
understate how imaginative most of Jetpack Blues reveals
itself to be, even beyond the immediate pop pleasures that alone
would make this one mandatory. The best sort of pretensions went into
the making of this record; it wouldn't be a stretch to think Ackerson
and bandmates Jennifer Jurgens (guitars, striking and sympathetic
singing, various keyboards) and Dan Boen (bass, synthesizers,
programming) sat back in the studio debating how to make the perfect
rock 'n' roll album. It also wouldn't be much of a stretch to say
they pulled it off.
The album works partly because of its intimate relationship with a
whole history of cleanly produced pop-rock; its musical touchstones
range from the Beatles on up through Matthew Sweet to the most
tasteful Oasis output. Guitars are never too far down in the mix, but
they're always tuneful; dissonance isn't a part of the Polara sound.
Ultimately, the music is challenging for its detail but not its
sound, which is left to serve as an invitation to Ackerson's direct,
emotionally compelling songs. Like the mid-to-late-period output from
Liverpool's Fab Four, Polara's fascination with rendering emotionally
accessible, musically complex pop songs suitable for radio is a
defining characteristic.
After the initial jumble of hummable tunes and generous feeling, the
flourishes start to stand out. Weaving through the catchy melody and
underneath the shimmering production of "Wig On" are Jurgens' lovely
vocals, adding a layer of gloss to an already-sparkling four minutes.
And when she stretches the last word of the chorus ("I'm not afraid
to get higher") over the fade, it nearly undermines gravity. I mean,
you can feel yourself lift off the ground in joy and release. And
that doesn't even begin to do the song justice. There are fabulous
couplets ("How could something so ecstatic/ Slowly become
automatic?"), the soaring-est of soaring guitar solos, and a
relentless rhythm track that makes you feel like you're running down
a steep hill.
These are songs made for the radio, for summer, for motion, and
mostly and simply, concerned with love's connections and disconnects.
"Sweep Me Away" is another reminder of how new infatuation can pull
us from the emotional stasis of everyday living; it lurches and
throbs with passion, its chunky guitars giving way to a perfect
chorus. Opener "Can't Get Over You" explodes with purpose, Ackerman's
vocal hiding beneath the thundering drums and deferring to a wild
harmonica at its finish. Elsewhere, the soul-revue horns that propel
"Is This It?" and the Stonesy guitar break at the 3:27 mark compete
for attention with the title track. "Jetpack Blues" is buoyed by a
choral background vocal (probably overdubbed to death but who cares
— studio trickery is part of the charm) hanging on the line,
"It's a sound that could break your heart." Other than that insistent
phrase, it's a slight lyric, but that doesn't reduce the song's
attractiveness or its emotional pull. Like the majority of the lyrics
here, they sound good as they're sung, even if laying them bare from
their musical backings would leave nothing worth pondering. And if
we're not quite in "Louie Louie" territory, the lesson of that
dumbest of all garage classics holds true. Complexity does not equal
meaning.
First five songs? All classics. And there are more waiting on the flip side.
Jetpack Blues. The title is perfect when you think about it
— anachronistic yet accurate. It's the perfect name for a
classic record. All the old-world charm of rock 'n' roll (songs,
durability, driving beats, vocals that make your heart stop — or
start), still fulfilling expectations of a modern pop album
(indifference towards genre boundaries, production that walks that
elegant line separating glossy and slick, tasteful use of synths and
programming), demanding to be played again and again.
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