Music Review: Relient K’s “Forget And Not Slow Down”

RATING:  4.5 / 5 stars

By Chris Moore:

Relient K’s new 2009 release Forget and Not Slow Down — the Christian rock band’s sixth studio album — is a fine addition to their catalog.  Indeed, if the recent history of Relient K has been one of striking a balance between their trademark tongue-in-cheek moves and being taken more seriously, then this album is the ultimate realization of that endeavor.

Taken one song at a time, this latest release may not initially measure up to the standout tracks of their career — think: “Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been,” “Falling Out,” “Getting Into You,” or “Sadie Hawkins Dance” to name a few.  And yet, perhaps for the first time in their now decade-long career, Thiessen and company have assembled a truly excellent album.

To be sure, this is the first Relient K release to transcend the bounds of the standard “15 or so songs we wrote and recorded around the same time” theme of their previous records.

THE REVIEW CONTINUES AFTER THE BREAK…

"Forget and Not Slow Down" - Relient K (2009)

"Forget and Not Slow Down" - Relient K (2009)

Forget and Not Slow Down

TRACK LISTING

1)    “Forget and Not Slow Down”

2)    “I Don’t Need a Soul”

3)    “Candlelight”

4)    “Flare (Outro)”

5)    “Part of It”

6)    “(Outro)”

7)    “Therapy”

8)    “Over It”

9)    “Sahara”

10)  “Oasis (Intro)”

11)  “Savannah”

12)  “Baby (Outro)”

13)  “If You Believe Me”

14)  “This is the End”

15) “(If You Want It)”

“You’re not the first thing in my life I’ve loved and lost,” lead vocalist Matthew Thiessen croons in “This is the End (If You Want It),” the aptly titled closing track .  Simply put, this love and loss that Thiessen refers to is the driving force that unites each thread of the album .

Thus, approached as a study of one man’s reaction to the end of a serious relationship, Forget and Not Slow Down is an engaging concept album from start to finish.

The opener (and title track) sets the scene for what is to come, laying out the philosophy of accepting what is in the past, “gather[ing] regrets for the things I can’t change now.”  The second track, “I Don’t Need a Soul,” echoes this sentiment and can be read as a further declaration of independence.

The third track marks an abrupt change of pace, finding Thiessen singing the praises of a woman so beautiful as to attract so many fireflies to her “Candlelight” as to obscure her view, a beauty so pure that it results in pinched nerves in the necks of men turning around too quickly to look at her.

The idealized view of this woman is only temporary as “Part of It” finds the narrator “working with adhesives, chains and locks and ropes and knots to tether.”  Thiessen continues, “But nothing’s sticking to the pieces; I can’t seem to hold it all together.”  This is where the concept of the album truly begins to crystallize: a man is suddenly on his own — he wants to “forget and not slow down,” but vacillates between renewal and denial.

“Therapy” is a travelogue of a man on his own, riding with only music to accompany him, dressed in the clothes he woke up in.  Soon after, “Over It” is about moving forward, but seems less convincing for the repetition of the chorus.

Which brings us to “Sahara,” the hardest rocking song on the album (and probably the one that most deserves the reference to the Foo Fighters that Theissen made during a recent interview).  This track is all about frustration and airing out the scars sustained during a previous relationship.

“Savannah,” with the placidly beautiful “Oasis (Intro)” and distorted “Baby (Outro)” is the perfect follow-up to “Sahara,” and the listener can feel the calm that comes over the narrator as he refers not so much to the actual Savannah, Georgia, but rather to what the town represented for them in their relationship.

“If You Believe Me” could be read either as an “I told you so” moment or as a statement to a potential new lover, but there is no mistaking the message of “This is the End (If You Want It).”  There is frustration, but there is more importantly closure and peace in this final track.  It is truly the payoff moment for the entire album — it is not the best or even my favorite song, but it provides the perfect ending, both musically and lyrically, for this outstanding concept album.

At the end of the day, Forget and Not Slow Down appears doomed to be marginalized by the mainstream music press.  Thus far, Rolling Stone has essentially ignored its existence.  Indeed, Relient K does seem to have found themselves being written off by both rock critics (as “Christian rock” and thus not palatable to a larger, secular audience) and original fans (for having signed on with a major label).

Still, the new album debuted at #15 on the Billboard 200, as well as scoring favorable reviews in the independent press.  The only small press reviewer to award fewer than four out of five stars gave a largely favorable review, only vaguely noting that, “There are some tracks that aren’t entirely appealing.”

And if that’s the worst he could write about this album, then perhaps there is still hope that it won’t be ignored — or entirely forgotten — after all…

Mumford & Sons’ “Sigh No More” – The Weekend Review

By Chris Moore:

RATING:  3.5 / 5 stars

Critics and fans alike have been talking about Mumford & Sons an awful lot this year, more than any other new artist with the obvious exception of Justin Bieber.  But…

Do I even need to explain why these two cannot and should not be compared?

While I haven’t contributed my voice to the Sigh No More fanfare, there is no question that, out of those nominated, they deserve the “New Artist” Grammy.  On their debut album, the band has established a characteristic sound that is both unique and rooted in traditional music.  At times, as on “Little Lion Man,” it is clear that this is a contemporary band, their music unlike what you’ve heard before.  At others, as on “Timshel,” it’s as though you’re listening to a weathered pub band run through a traditional ballad they’ve played a hundred times before.

What is perhaps most remarkable about Mumford & Sons is how much attention they have gained for a band that relies on such strongly acoustic arrangements.  Unlike others this year, like Phil Selway who went acoustic in a stripped-down, melancholy manner, Mumford & Sons have managed to add verve to what might otherwise be a gritty, folky aura.

One listen to a track like “Dust Bowl Dance” will reveal a blurring of the lines between what is acoustic and what is rock music.  Certainly, the term “acoustic rock” and its connotative effects do not properly express “Dust Bowl Dance.”

Sigh No More (Mumford & Sons, 2010)

Sigh No More (Mumford & Sons, 2010)

Elsewhere, as on “After the Storm,” the band reveals a softer side, more in tune with the expectations of an acoustic song.  That tenderness is present throughout the album: in the raw vulnerability of the title track, the harmonies on “White Blank Page,” and the blunt confessional chorus of “Little Lion Man.”

The overall tone of Sigh No More is decidedly weathered, tortured, and this is upheld across the majority of tracks.  The intro to “Winter Winds” — its fast-paced banjo picking and triumphant horns — is perhaps the closest Mumford & Sons get to upbeat songwriting, yet even on this track there is a feeling of having overcome great strife.

For such a young band, they pull off “weathered” and “tortured” remarkably well.  For such a young man, Marcus Mumford’s vocals project the texture of years and hard-earned experience.

As strong and as original a sound as they have created, it is a bit too well established, verging on the predictable after a couple of tracks.  Of course, there are deviations and standout songs — those mentioned above in particular, with the possible exception of “Timshel” — but this feeling of formulaic-ness is difficult to shake on an album-level.

This is the main reason I haven’t fallen in line with those praising Sigh No More, yet I would vote for Mumford & Sons in a heartbeat if I were given a “Best New Artist” Grammy ballot.  As a debut, this is a remarkable effort.  The electric guitars on the penultimate track “Dust Bowl Dance” hint strongly at what the future may hold for the band: great potential and development of their characteristic sound.

The BEST DEBUTS of 2011 (The Year-End Review Awards)

By Chris Moore:

This year, we’ll start with the notable debuts.  Or, more appropriately, the notable debut (singular).  I listen to a great deal of music every year, and even this only scratches the surface of a solitary droplet in the oceans of new material released, so I should preface this with the disclaimer that there may indeed be other, excellent debuts that I’ve missed.  If there are any that you know about, I encourage you to leave that information in the comments section below, and I’ll check it out asap.

 

That being said, the award for best debut of 2011 goes to Yuck, a band that I picked up because I thought the album cover was kind of cool and quirky.  At first, I was hesitant, as this is low-fi, distortion-heavy garage rock.  However, tracks like “Suicide Policeman” gave me a shock and all but dared me to listen more carefully and not find substance.  By the second listen, I was taken with Yuck’s raw but purposeful style, and it is without reservations that I pass them along to you here.

1) Yuck – Yuck

 

Shawn Mullins’ “Light You Up” (2010) – YES, NO, MAYBE SO?

Shawn Mullins’ Light You Up (2010) – MAYBE

Light You Up (Shawn Mullins, 2010)

Light You Up (Shawn Mullins, 2010)

(October 12, 2010)

Review:

Mullins is a distinctive songwriter, steeped in tradition but indisputably original, and he assembles a keenly woven set of tracks in Light You Up — still, there is something tauntingly brief about Matthew Sweet’s appearance on “California.”  (You petered out after your debut, so mull it over: an electric Thorns album would be sweet!)

Top Two Tracks:

“California” & “The Ghost of Johnny Cash”