Amid the current cultural turmoil, the
politically conscious, post-9/11 album is becoming
something of a fixture, sometimes coming from
unexpected quarters (Green Day's American Idiot, for
instance). AYWKUBTTOD's fourth album approaches the
American political zeitgeist from a different
perspective, and in the process reveals itself to be
both perplexing and intriguing. It also marks a
further evolution in the band's sound, one that
carries with it the risk of alienating an existing
fan base even as it's likely to ensnare new listeners.
At their inception, AYWKUBTTOD provided a barely stable
mix of avant-rock delirium underpinned by Who-style
dynamics. By the time of their last release, Source
Tags And Codes (the group's first for a major), this had been streamlined
into a more
compact, listener-friendly form without dulling its
essential edge. Worlds Apart, however, stretches
their music into unexpected shapes.
The ominous strings and choral bombast of "Overture,"
cut short by a female voice announcing the band, is a
suitable attention-grabber, providing a melodramatic
setting for the explosive volleys of "Will You Smile
Again For Me." But just as the circuitous guitar riffs
and staccato rhythm bring on a sense of familiarity,
the noise and turmoil suddenly fade, leaving a voice
crooning to a trumpet accompaniment: "Remember all the
bad dreams are not far from reality.…" And again the
song shifts gear, this time to a kind of menacing
glam-rock, chain-gang stomp as the lyrics ask rhetorically
"just how long it takes for
you to understand/ Where the feelings stopped and the
writing began." There's a wry bitterness running
through it, a self-accusatory rage that explodes into
cynicism on the title track, where, against the music's
drunken sway and hollow, beer-hall bravado, a voice
sneers "How they laugh as we shovel the ashes/ Of the
Twin Towers/ But in death we will pay back the debt/ Of
this candy store of ours." Strong stuff, undoubtedly,
but also uncertain in its intent. The band appears to
be looking inward, asking what part it has left to
play in the wake of massive, politically charged
events. So while "Classic Art Showcase" rages against
armchair complacency and correspondingly tests its
audience with a succession of contrasting stylistic
shifts, "Summer 91" somberly evokes a kind of
resignation that overshadows its lyrical positivity:
"And though it makes no sense/ To know there are no
accidents/ Have no fear any more." If there are echoes
of The Who in the band's instrumental charge, these lyrics similarly evoke the
angry, conflicted
intellect of Pete Townshend.
The message is perhaps both confused and confusing,
contradictory, but also honest — there are no easy
solutions posited, just an ongoing sense of unease and
doubt as to what a "correct" artistic response should
be. In contrast, the music sounds massively confident
and impressively eclectic. Combining brute force with
melody, Worlds Apart is a stunning showcase for
AYWKUBTTOD's mature sound, full of unexpected
subtleties, musical wild-cards and detours. If the
music is no longer as untethered as before, it
compensates by being more dynamically honed, and at
its heart it still throbs with a dark kind of passion.
With its synthesis of Anglophile rock influences,
angular post-punk guitar sprawl and prog melodrama,
Worlds Apart stands as an undiluted personal
statement expressed in a maximalist language that's
pure rock 'n' roll.
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