SoundSalvationArmy

Bravery is a quality not often rewarded in music. If it is, it’s a superficial, hollow bravery; it’s Lady Gaga being hailed as a cutting edge “artist” because she wears sunglasses made out of lit cigarettes and hats made out of telephones, not because her music is innovative, cutting-edge, or even slightly cerebral. The music is disposable and pedestrian and certainly won’t be the larger part of her legacy. That’s why it feels so good to see a group of prairie boys (now relocated to Montreal to help gain a foothold in the music biz) pushing their own boundaries lyrically and looking to squeeze some adventure out of rock and roll.

Far and away my favourite moment of the City Street’s last album, 2008’s Concentrated Living, was the sprawling six-minute track “Burn Down The Churches.” It tips singer/guitarist/songwriter Rick Reid’s hand in terms of his world view; in it he implores the world at large to divest itself of the crutch of organized religion (pulling up short of atheism he clarifies that he does believe in God, but not in the typical way), calling on the world to burn down churches and live life more spiritually and less reliant on dogma and procedure. It’s idealist to say the least; he wants everyone to quit their jobs and live their lives, embrace life-affirming passions (like sex), and embrace personal freedoms (like having it). It’s set to a musical background of galloping drums and carefully-picked electric guitar that builds and rumbles and frolics and bursts. Like the group itself it doesn’t compromise a bit.

The same can be said of the band’s new record, the Jazz Age, which opens one of its catchiest songs with the singer’s bold proclamation, “I don’t put shit up my nose…anymore.”

Yes, the Jazz Age, is more of what they do best: minimally-orchestrated yet deftly-arranged tunes that embrace and enfold every aspect of rock music’s history (from the faster-paced power chords and gang vocal “woah-ohs” of “Song for Lee” to the solo-organ reverb of “White Noise” to the powerful, string-laden outro on closer “Slothrop’s Ghost”). They’ve always been a three-piece and they aren’t ashamed or afraid of that fact; while some tracks incorporate piano, organ, and strings they aren’t crutches being used to prop up some forced agenda of artistic growth. They’re incorporated sparingly and, more importantly, for effect. In fact, the entire band fires on all cylinders here but Reid’s comprehensive guitar work is the mucilage that holds it all together. Songs explode in the chorus with a heaviness that is somewhat more prevalent than their previous releases, Reid’s furious strumming and complex picking coming across regardless of tempo.

The album is sort of an inverted pyramid of depression, romantic/sexual mistakes made by youngsters, and the consequences that result from them. The second track, “Song For Lee,” strikes one of the most upbeat tempos on the record as well as one of the closest-to-positive messages: “Our dreams are just as real as the fears in their eyes/this is all there is, kids/lets live as hard as we can stand.” What follows is an album’s worth of songs about, as Reid writes on this track, “fucked up kids” and their myriad failures and drunken, drugged-out regrets. A thread of lost love powers the intricate, detailed lyrics while the music hints at early Elvis Costello, modern punk, and Neil Young-ian rock.

To me, the final track is very reminiscent of the aforementioned “Burn Down The Churches” and is a brilliant summation of the general tenor of the album. The nine minute track spends its first six relating Reid’s misadventures of the heart through the lens of Tyrone Slothrop, a character from Thomas Pynchon’s classic Gravity’s Rainbow. Going from a lone acoustic guitar to the full band to bass-only accompaniment back to a full-band build and emotionally string-laden burst that lasts the better part of the last four minutes, it is an epic ending to an album of unsurprising but absolute depth of emotion. Climaxing with the repeated insistence, “Fuck the war, we’re in love,” Reid shows once again that a legacy of a he-slut fumbling in the dark can be overcome with just one true, real, human connection.

The album is far from a gleaming beacon of positive energy but, hindsight being 20/20, Reid knows enough to know that everyone suffers their own mis-steps while traveling the road to a more successful or happy adulthood. While I wouldn’t characterize their past albums as fucked up failures, there can be little doubt the City Streets have followed a parallel track in creating the Jazz Age, one that will hopefully lead them to the prominence a record of this caliber commands.

 

 the City Streets - Song For Lee [3:53m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 the City Streets - Last Waltz Party [3:57m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

You can buy the Jazz Age, download the album for free, or make a donation to the band at their home page. Their previous two records are also available through their site.

Pat entries ambition, Canadian content, failure, nostalgia, rock, the City Streets