Published on May 20, 2000
Nineteen ninety-seven wasn’t that long ago, but in the world of
pop music it may as well have been the dark ages – it was around
that time that the “adult alternative” format was starting to
explode, and with it the success of oodles of “sincere” bands,
drawing their inspiration from the dying grunge movement but
sounding comparatively glossed over, much like what the “new
romantics” (think Spandau Ballet, Flock of Seagulls) relation was
to punk rock. And unsurprisingly, flavors of the month such as
Tonic, Fuel, Spacehog, and Dishwalla have all gone the way of
Spandau Ballet, being remembered for one or two glorious hits, but
little else, their CDs flooding cutout bins everywhere.
Also among those sincere bands was Third Eye Blind, whose debut
single “Semi-Charmed Life” was catchy and cute, but had all the
makings of ’90s ephemera, and none of the makings of a band that
would make a lasting impression. Then something odd happened. A
second single (“Jumper”) began to get some airplay. And now a
second album has already churned forth one mega-hit, in “Never Let
You Go.”
Still, there was every reason to be skeptical when first popping
the new disc
Blue, which I gritted my teeth and shelled the dough out for
after the ability to finally admit to myself that I liked “Never
Let You Go,” into the CD player. But much to my surprise / chagrin,
I now have to admit something even more unbelievable. This is a
very, very good band – a band that is pushing the boundaries of
power pop as we know it.
We’ve all heard the single 78,000 times by now, so it’ll suffice
to say it is, as of May 2000, the most infectious mega-hit of the
still-young decade. It’s equally as powerful as a “Jesse’s Girl” or
a “There She Goes,” so I have a feeling it’s here to stay forever –
it’ll show up on oldies stations everywhere in 30 years. It would
be reasonable to expect “An Ode To Maybe” to be the second single –
it’s the second poppiest song on the disc, and boasts another
extremely infectious yet simplistic two chord theme. But perhaps
the most telling line on
Blue is from that song – “If I could bottle my hopes in a
store bought scent / they’d be nutmeg and peach and they’d pay the
rent.” 3EB singer / writer Stephan Jenkins is already a master at
creating music that both pays the rent and is – dare we say –
experimental.
Nowhere is he more daring thematically than on “Wounded,” which
is a frightening and gripping letter from a man to a girlfriend who
has been attacked. “We’re missing you” gets repeated throughout the
song, which is interesting – the narrator misses his girlfriend as
“one of the gang” as well as a lover – and could very well be
autobiographical. But whether it is or not, you’ve got to admire
the soul bearing.
We only a get few seconds until “10 Days Late” comes on, the
title of which speaks for itself. “Camouflage” is a wistful take on
loneliness, and “1000 Julys” is a steamy paean to infatuation. In
general, the swagger, anger and bitterness of Third Eye Blind’s
first album has been replaced by a far wider variety of emotions of
themes, a good sign of a maturing writer.
There are some wild things going on musically as well. “Deep
Inside Of You” recalls early U2 somewhat in its torch ballad
approach. “Farther” and “Camouflage” both pile on the echoing
effects, the former with an up-close approach (think Paul McCartney
home demos), the latter just the opposite. “1000 Julys” is nearly
heavy metal – not Seattle-esque flannel heavy metal, but
poodle-haired, spandexed ’80s heavy metal. Only Jenkins’ voice
itself keeps it from sounding like the second coming of Motley
Crue. Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but only a bit.
Things do go a bit too far with the game of spot-the-influence
on “The Red Summer Sun,” which boasts a mellotron that can’t help
but remind us of Led Zeppelin’s “Rain Song,” and then in the
chorus, Jenkins screeches out his best Robert Plant, so blatantly,
that he has no qualms about the fact that the first line of said
chorus is “been a long time, been a long time!” Coincidence?
If there’s any problem with
Blue, it’s what that Plant imitation symbolizes – Third Eye
Blind are trying a bit too hard to be epic, and falling (but only
lightly) on their faces. There are about 55 minutes of good ideas
on this album. Unfortunately, it is 70 minutes long. Repetitive
fragments like those in “Red Summer Sun,” “Camouflage” and “Slow
Motion” drag on for too long, and the amateur scientist sentiments
of “Darwin” should never have seen the light of day.
But we shouldn’t let the failed experiments overshadow the
successful ones. This may be as good as this band will ever get,
but if it is, we can always remember the old joke: What do you call
the person who finishes at the bottom of his class in the worst
medical school in the country? Doctor. What do you call the least
adventurous, shortest lived band that made a few catchy singles and
two good albums? Rock stars. Third Eye Blind has already escaped
being our generation’s Flock of Seagulls – they may yet be our
generation’s Men at Work. But it beats having to work for a
living.