Published on Apr 30, 2003
Change is hard — for proof, just ask a Jayhawks fan.
The conventional wisdom among the Jayhawks’ loyal cult following
seems to be that 2000’s polished, Bob Ezrin-produced
Smile was too poppy, despite its vast musical variety and
relentless energy. Long-time fans generally prefer the more
languid, contemplative alt-country style of the band’s breakthrough
album
Hollywood Town Hall. Thus, there has been much rejoicing in
anticipation of
Rainy Day Music, which sees the band ditch the
Smile sound — and half its prior lineup — for a return to
the smaller, tighter, alt-country guitar-and-harmonies sound heard
on their earlier discs.
Problem is, I’m not one of those Jayhawks fan. I didn’t like
Smile; I flat-out
loved it. It’s a meticulously crafted album that melds
gorgeous country-rock laments with hard-edged rock and roll and
fills out every track with a dazzling soundscape of loops, effects,
Beatlesque harmonies and sneaky undercurrents of humor. In a word,
a masterpiece.
Hollywood Town Hall, on the other hand, I’ve never even
bothered to review because I still can’t figure out what makes it
tick. The production is flat and one-dimensional, the songs lack
sonic diversity and flow into one another like one long, dreamy
lament. Maybe that spells greatness for some folks; I’ve never
managed to make it through
HTH without getting bored. Sacrilege, I know, but that’s my
honest opinion.
On first listen, I was deeply disappointed with
Rainy Day Music. Singer/guitarist/songwriter/mastermind Gary
Louris still has a great voice — formidably expressive whether in
falsetto or his normal tenor — and writes clever, insightful
lyrics with an ageless wisdom to them. But the band’s return to a
more naturalistic, stripped-down sound initially felt like a
retreat to me, a let-down from
Smile‘s wild creativity and endlessly varied textures. It
was like going from 256 colors to black and white.
Then a funny thing happened as I listened to this album again,
and again, and again. From the more limited sonic palette employed
by Louris and remaining bandmates Marc Perlman (bass) and Tim
O’Reagan (drums/vocals), a set of remarkable songs began to emerge
and take on individual identities before my ears.
Songs like “Tailspin,” “Eyes of Sarahjane” and “Come To The
River” move from steady-on melancholy into surging, note-perfect
choruses. Chiming-guitar / country-rock inventors The Byrds have
influenced roughly ten thousand bands since 1967, but rarely have
the results been this sublime. And although the vibe is gentler and
subtler, the electric guitars haven’t been neglected; to the
contrary, Louris gets in a number of sweet licks, as if to remind
you that the fire lit by
Smile hasn’t been extinguished, it’s just being channeled in
a different way.
The rich melodies of cuts like the gentle “All The Right
Reasons” and the lilting “Save It For A Rainy Day” retain the
flavor of the band’s best moments as a sextet with their carefully
arranged harmonies. While the band is down to a core trio, they
fill out their sound with support from guitarist/vocalist Stephen
McCarthy, producer/multi-instrumentalist Ethan Johns and stellar
guest vocalists Matthew Sweet and Chris Stills (whose dad has spent
a little time in a band that does pretty well with harmonies,
too).
Rainy Day Music incorporates lessons learned from both
Smile and the albums that preceded it and pours them into a
set of songs that both demand and deserve your quiet attention.
Change is hard, but also rewarding, and sometimes black and white
photos capture nuances you could never uncover with the gaudy
overkill of full color.