The bandages inside a pen
Listening to The Gaslight Anthem’s 2008 album the ‘59 Sound I heard a band starting to deliver on its promise. I had no idea what was to come.
The newly-released American Slang is the band truly delivering on their potential, finally and fully achieving the synthesis of punk, Springsteenian rock, and 50’s soul and R&B they’ve been patiently waltzing their way toward for the last five years. They’ve done away with crutches (the power chords and modern punk tempos) that supported them on much of their last two full-lengths and an EP (which, frankly, was pretty awesome despite being nothing but an awkward growth spurt).
How did they get here? Well, it’s pretty simple: they stopped fucking around. Primarily that means getting rid of the lyrical obfuscations that have marked their previous work. Frontman and songwriter Brian Fallon has spent most of the band’s past releases couching his songs in stealth, whether it was naming every woman referenced in his songs Maria or crafting tunes that referenced musicians he admires (often directly by name) with only the vaguest hints of story/substance clinging to those references. The closest he seemed to get to autobiography was “Drive” from the debut Sink or Swim, a song about driving the tour van. Not exactly painfully personal storytelling.
Ah, but here we get another view at Fallon’s emotional depth. All of the track’s here offer a more personal take on songwriting, including some that expand on previous hints of real-life heartache. For instance, “Bring It On” offers more about the broken relationship only hinted at in the ‘59 Sound’s brilliant opening missive “Great Expectations.” It’s a classic storyline flipped on its head, the male protagonist faced with a lover threatening to leave. It remains couched in Fallon’s vague reference to The Cool, presumably making it a period piece when Miles Davis’ new twist on jazz was invading the clubs and driving the boys and girls wild. An inexplicable air of nostalgia has always clung to Fallon’s songwriting an that’s no different on this record, as no less than three songs use a variation on the phrase, “When we were young” (an interesting tendency for a man in his early 30’s). The group’s most awkward moments have always been their attempts at modern, punkier songs so it makes sense to some degree that they’d run as far as possible in the opposite direction.
“Orphans” and “Boxer” are an uptempo back-to-back pair of tracks that might cut the closest for Fallon from a lyrical standpoint. The former concerns a formerly-young man lamenting on a lonely past and trying to find himself in the world; the latter tells the tale of a rough-and-tumble youngster who escapes into music and songwriting to escape the abuse he suffers at the hands of an overly-macho father. These may or may not be windows into Fallon’s past but even if they are character pieces it certainly gives some insight into the somewhat bleak undercurrent that can permeate his songs from time to time. But that tenor does conflict somewhat with his constant nostalgia; it’s hard to imagine someone longing for such a rough-and-tumble past.
Regardless, it’s refreshing to see the group has made a conscious effort to stop writing about their favourite kind of music and instead fold its influence into their own work. That’s most apparent in tracks like “The Queen of Lower Chelsea” and “The Diamond Church Street Choir,” which are laced not only with back-up vocals from the other members of the band (heretofore nonexistent on Gaslight albums) but also with several tracks of Fallon wailing at the top of his lungs, doing his best impression of a 60’s soul singer. The commitment and charisma he shows in those layered performances are genuine and so unexpected and engaging they nearly run the risk of calling the listener’s attention away from the song as a whole.
Fallon has said in interviews that he and guitarist Alex Rosamilia put in a lot of time simply getting better at playing the guitar in preparation for this album. That comes across in a much more sophisticated interplay between the two than on past records. While several songs here maintain the upbeat punk spirit of their earliest releases they’ve also tempered that by playing parts that go beyond simple power chords, emphasizing melodicism and muscle in equal parts.
The band folds Fallon’s new-found songwriting bravery and their musical maturation into brand new territory on “The Queen Of Lower Chelsea,” a patient, quiet tribute to a woman that’s letting life pass her by. The track is a bold new step for the band, focusing around a catchy, rhythmic lead guitar figure that serves as both hook and the anchor for the song, a melodic centerpiece that is returned to throughout. It’s a song that is 95% restraint, exploding only momentarily in a quick bridge section. The band immediately quiets back down again, save for some duelling background vocals from Fallon, tortured wailing that moves the band closer than ever to the early Clapton/Stones white-boy blues vibe that influenced the writing of this record. It’s a captivating listen and a masterfully-crafted song, perhaps their best yet.
The fuller sound that has resulted from Gaslight’s obvious efforts to just get better makes this album well worth the wait. Culminating in the tortured, plaintive wailing of the final track, “We Did It When We Were Young,” the record is a huge step forward musically in addition to being a long-awaited peek into the singer’s mind. After enjoying his vague ruminations on some of his favourite artists of years past, Fallon’s finally taking steps to ensure he and his band have a shot at leaving a legacy of their own.
the Gaslight Anthem - Boxer [2:47m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download the Gaslight Anthem - the Queen Of Lower Chelsea [3:39m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | DownloadPlenty of music and “apparel” available through the band’s webstore. Albums are digital through iTunes as well.
