Dec. 1, 2009

Aren't we past this synth-revival bullshit by now?

The Bravery have long been overshadowed by their chart-topping rivals (The Killers) for a reason: they are utterly mediocre, living proof that it takes more than shimmery alt-rock derivatives to be respectable in the rock scene, no matter how hard Mother Label is pushing the product. After two albums of lukewarm synth-revival hit misses, The Bravery should've gleaned a little wisdom through their associations and semi-failures, at least enough to put out a solid third record.

But they didn't. This album is a mess. Soaked in echo effects and sounding as if the synth keys that pervade most of the album were recorded deep inside a steel tube, Stir The Blood is an exercise in echoey mediocrity that will likely mark the end of their long-expired benefit of the doubt among fans, critics and labels alike.

The pop sensibility on these eleven tracks leans hard toward British wankery, with lukewarm effect. I wouldn't go so far as to call the album outright plagiaristic, but it certainly wouldn't exist without Robert Smith and the Killers. For a band so curiously eager to criticize their far-more-successful label-mate rivals, they sure know how to lift melodic structure. 

Singer Sam Endicott has increasingly added faux-English accents to his vocals through the bands career, but on Stir The Blood it's downright embarrassing. You can barely hear what the hell he's mumbling through "Song For Jacob," but don't those tinny electronic drums just sound so awesomely retro? Unfortunately, no, they don't. They just sound cheap. 

Speaking of Endicott, the album was reportedly written after the singer's girlfriend tried to commit suicide. Whatever sense of pain or passion that may have come out of such a personal crisis would've been buoys of soul to the album, but the only track resembling genuine emotion is "Hatefuck," featuring a yearning recklessness and a shredding solo. Unfortunately, it's probably the most single-worthy song on the record.

"She's So Bendable" is a quaaludes-drenched slow dance that stretches the borders of the album's ever-widening inspiration void. "I Have Seen The Future," clearly born of their unplayed "Blue Monday" cover, is an annoying mess that utterly fails in melancholy earnest. "Sugarpill," meanwhile, is a complete waste of time, a meaningless ditty built around a throwaway riff. Are there no redeeming qualities on this album? If I had to find one, it would be that after hearing it I'm left wanting to listen to The Cure, The Smiths, anybody who does what they do with a little more soul, a little stronger sense of authenticity. 

Everything bright and poppy about the band's first two records has been summarily flushed through the melancholy machine, as if through some bid to capture a more danceable Disintegration kind of feel. But of course, it doesn't work.

Where's the ingenuity? Where's the fucking heart? You won't find it on Stir The Blood. There may have once been promise, but the Bravery are hiding behind this album, refusing to lay it out there and push themselves. Until they do that, they'll remain a mere recognizable name with stunted street cred and vague reference. I wouldn't hold my breath.