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music guy
A road map to music utopia
I have a dark little secret to share with you. For all the irreverent and elitist banter I spout in this column each week—not to mention the myriad sarcastic comments made at the expense of pop-punk/emo bands—I actually like that genre of music. I really do—though it's a bit of a love-hate relationship at times. I almost have to like it; I, along with a lot of you, grew up with pop-punk—and I think we can all look back at our youth soundtrack of Eve 6 and the Offspring fondly. That's because people tend to like what they grew up with. It's the reason my dad loves Springsteen, it's the reason my mom loves Carly Simon, and it's the reason my grandparents love whatever it is they love. In my suburban-Chicago hometown, the music scene during my junior high and high school years consisted of bands like 7th Grade Underdog, Sad Panda and Fall Out Boy playing venues like the Fireside Bowl, my high school's gym and "that kid's basement."
For this reason, and despite the fact that my musical taste has both matured and diversified through the years, I'm going to end my career at The Kansan writing about the same band. I started my career three years ago with Panic! at the Disco—though they have now changed their name to "Panic at the Disco." Notice the lack of exclamation mark, or don't, because it really doesn't matter at all.
PANIC AT THE DISCO Pretty. Odd.
"Oh, how it's been so long. We're so sorry we've been gone. We were busy writing songs for—YOU!"
And my, how we've been waiting. Panic at the Disco's sophomore album was originally due in
Former bassist Brent Wilson jams out during a 2006 concert at the House of Blues Chicago.
the fall of 2007, but after completing roughly 75 percent of the recording, the band decided they weren't happy with the direction and scrapped everything in favor of starting over. Pretty, Odd, is the result of that decision, and though I have no way of judging how the scrapped album would have sounded, I certainly can say that the band's decision resulted in something special.
Panic's first album, A Fever You Can't Sweat Out, is a bit hard to describe, which is surprising considering how one-dimensional it was. The album sounded, for the most part, like what you'd expect from a band signed by the driving force behind Fall Out Boy; pop-emo. What made that album different from the rest (at the time) was its electronica undertones and some weird vocal effects. Though catchy as hell, the album was more or less the product of some over-marketed 17-year-olds, and it sounded like it.
Pretty. Odd., however, is immeasurably more mature than the debut album. I hesitate to say that it's wholly unique, as the album has a definite Beatles vibe to it, but it certainly transcends the band's previous stylistic boundaries and proves they are no one-hit wonder.
In terms of lyrics, the album seems to be a bit of surrealist fairy-tale. Unlike their debut, the songs on Panic's sophomore effort are not hodgepodges of unfortunate events involving family members and ex-girlfriends. This time around, we hear the story of a little green alien, a very handsome woman and a prompt arrival at a place where it's 9 in the afternoon. Though this might seem pretty odd (See what I did there!) to anyone who hasn't seen the band perform, they are accompanied onstage by a cadre of circus performers, a fact that puts the music into perspective.
The album really excels on the musical side. In "Pas De Cheval," a Souza-esque march leads into a horn-and-a capella-based bridge, which itself leads into an impressive guitar solo. Then, in "Folkin' Around," a bluegrass violin and banjo serve as the soundtrack to a nostalgic love ballad. Not exactly what we've come to expect from this band, to be sure. As mentioned above, the album definitely reminds the listener of the Beatles, but only because it's so diametrically different from what the last album would lead us to expect. Though I'd never deign to equate Panic at the Disco with the Beatles—they're not even playing the same game—Panic has shown that they don't need the synthesized beats and electric piano to write catchy songs. They are more than capable of extracting the maximum musical potential from a minimal number of instruments. While their debut album was rotated out of my playlist shortly after its release, I don't anticipate the same thing happening with Pretty, Odd. There's just too much here to like.
And finally, because evoking memories of the Beatles with the music wasn't quite enough for the group, the music video for "Nine in the Afternoon" looks like a surrealist interpretation of the cover of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band—as though the actual Sgt. Pepper's cover wasn't surreal enough to begin with.
That's all she (well, he, I guess) wrote. Thanks to everyone for reading this semester. Best of luck in the future!
One of Panic at the Disco's vaudeville dancers performs onstage during a 2006 Chicago concert.
Singer Brendon Urie performs during the band's first-ever concert in Kansas City, Mo. Panic was unknown at the time and was the first of four opening bands for Fall Out Boy.
06 05.08.2008
VOL. 5, 18S, 31
interesting fact: The penalty for masturbation in Indonesia is decapitation. www.stunning-stuff.com
Contributed photos
contact the writer: bgarmisa@kansan.com