Can Derby beat the dreaded sophomore slump? Or does their charm become stale after one listen?
The Back Story
Derby, Portland’s hometown heroes, has certainly gained the respect of critics and indie-rock fans alike. Their first album, This is the New You, was self-produced and recorded in their home studio in Portland, Oregon. The album was an instant hit and put Derby on various top ten lists around the country. Critics compared their melodious vocals and crisp sound to The Shins, Sloan, and Brendan Benson.
Consequently, Derby found themselves swept away by the upside of success, as they toured with the likes of the Decembrists, Cake, British Sea Power, and Badly Drawn Boy. In 2007, the band decided to take a break from the whirlwind of fame and went back to the studio. Released in early June, Posters Fade is once again a self-produced effort that flows with the carefree nirvana of a cross-country road trip. Clocking in at just less than fifty minutes, their second album is laced with vintage-inspired harmonies that modify, never replicate.
The Review
While I do possess an eclectic taste in music, I’m a sucker for indie/alternative rock, especially if it resembles the defining mark of geek-chic, a la Rivers Cuomo. Perhaps it’s the inner nerd in me, but nine times out of ten, if a band is able to produce songs that could’ve easily been the soundtrack to my adolescent screw-ups, then I’m a bonafide goner. This being said, I should’ve been positively dizzy from relishing in Derby’s knack for blending the nostalgic with the vulnerable. However, although I enjoyed listening to Posters Fade, I wasn’t entirely blown away.
The first track, “Why Don’t You Do It,” opens the album with smooth harmonies and minimal guitar chords. Dedicated to “the girl that helps you get through it,” the in synch vocals have a sort of comfortable, silky rhythm that is neither lazy nor indifferent. “Why Don’t You Do It” is a wise way to simultaneously open the album and offer a small preview of the band’s sound. The soft flow of the song may remind some listeners of The Beatles with a twang of California cool, or the Beach Boys with a psychedelic twist.
Most of the time, I’m not a fan of bands or singers that delay the “official” start of their CD with feeble, insignificant track openers. I hate them as much as those awful track fillers that last less than a minute, squeezed between the end of a really electric song and a power ballad. I’ve never seen the point in stalling; maybe it’s due to the curse of my generation’s addiction to instant gratification, but I want to be hooked from the very first track. Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised when I didn’t skip over “Why Don’t You Do It.” Although the track is less than two minutes, it helps prepare the listener for the spunky pep of the second song, “All Or Nothing.”
With the release of Posters Fade, Derby decided that their first radio single would be “All Or Nothing.” With the exception of maybe two other songs, “All Or Nothing” is the quintessential first single ready for mainstream recognition. Evoking the upbeat self-reflection of bands such as Rooney and Motion City Soundtrack, the lyrics seem to flow with the music and vice versa. The subject matter of the song may deal with familiar stomping grounds, (young heartbreak, rejection, self-doubt fueled anxiety); this doesn’t mean that Derby has simply stolen the leftovers from a John Hughes script.
The maturity of the lyrics is due to beneficial simplicity. Unlike some of the other high-profile pop-rock bands out there, Derby is wise not to overindulge the listener with overwhelming imagery or mind-numbing, confessional-style prose. “All Or Nothing” is the kind of song that would be the perfect ear-candy for a California summer or a cross-country road trip with a close friend.
The third track, “Only What She’s Selling,” is one of the few songs that I’m not too crazy about. Noticeably mellower than the previous track, it’s a bit of a detour from flashes of a California summer or hapless cross-country adventure. The lyrics are sprinkled with quirky phrases, such as the chorus. Vocalists Nat Johnson and David Gulick warn, “don’t feed the bear/She’ll mess you up.”
Towards the end of the song, Johnson and Gulick declare that “breaking your heart [is] like a fist to the face.” Ouch. These are the kinds of lyrical surprises that make me admire a band, no matter the genre. Just like the previous song, the lyrics of “Only What She’s Selling,” are not forced or too over the top. Unfortunately, the placement of the track distracts me from an otherwise sharp tune.
Honestly, part of me thinks that this song shouldn’t have followed the high-energy antics of “All Or Nothing.” The slick harmonies and the light usage of clever metaphor are two of the song’s redeeming qualities. But on the other hand, slowing down the mood of the album so early in the listening process is a bit of an unexpected jolt. It’s almost like guzzling an ungodly amount of caffeine, only to experience a massive sugar-crash.
Fortunately, “Stop Stalling” returns to the distinctive head-nodding, foot-tapping rhythm of “All Or Nothing.” Tracks five and six, “If There’s Ever A Reason” and “Streetlight,” showcase Derby’s flourishing trademark for crunchy guitars and tight harmonies. In “Streetlight,” the beginning guitar rift inspires the characteristic sound of The Strokes. However, unlike The Strokes, Derby tends to fall on the more polished side, trading in the slice of garage-grunge spry for the controlled flare of vintage-esque pop.
The next two tracks, “Hopes” and “Treetops,” are somewhat forgettable. Although in the musical sense, they’re both near flawless, I couldn’t pin-point anything that made either track stand out in my mind. Syncopated beats and poppy guitars? Check. Ageless lyrics tinged with equal parts vulnerability and unapologetic introspection? Check. But after carefully listening to both tracks, I’m still left feeling a bit dissatisfied, unsettled, as though I’ve been expecting a clean knock-out and am only half-conscious. “Treetops” slithers by with “ghosts that won’t hold” and apocalyptic snippets of “bombs just dropped/and kids were just dead.”
The ninth track, “Michigan,” is my second favorite song on Posters Fade. The tone is fittingly reflective without the crippling after taste of sentimentality. Listening to the song is similar to flipping through an old photo album, complete with all the snapshots of drunken nights and the friends that truly mattered. The song celebrates the potency of memory and the self-satisfaction that comes with accepting the process of growing up. There’s nothing about this track that is akin to the typical connotations of post-adolescent reflection, such as the pang of drowning in a Cure or Smiths marathon. (If Robert Smith or Morrissey are reading this, don’t take that comment the wrong way. Excuse my sarcasm for a pathetic means of masking my own sad devotion to the both of you.)
Once again, while going through the track list, I found that Posters Fade is a mix of the stellar and the lethargic. “Don’t Feed The Bears” could easily be a reprise of “Only What She’s Telling,” as the bear metaphor is reused and overtly recycled. It’s one thing to utilize former imagery or style techniques.
Authors and directors do it all the time. But just like a book or a feature-length film, recycled imagery in an album can sometimes become monotonous if poorly executed. Now, I’m not saying that Derby has failed in this sense, but do we really need two songs about a girl whose insatiable emotional appetite warrants comparisons to a bear? Perhaps if the chorus wasn’t so similar to the lyrics from “Only What She’s Telling,” the euphemism would hold up for the second time.
The last four tracks, “Posters Fade, “Stumps,” “As My Own,” and “Episode,” compliment one another, in the sense that they help bring the entire album to a close. Another notable track is “As My Own,” which manages to pulls off the honest sincerity of emotional attachment without sounding like a color-coordinated boy band. One of the strengths of Derby is that they seem to know exactly what works for them and what doesn’t. They know that in this stage of their career, they’re still evolving in terms of lyrics and vocal arrangement. As a result, Derby’s sound is something reassuringly familiar yet desirably organic.
The Verdict
Derby’s sophomore album, Posters Fade, is a mellow gem with its fair share of hits and misses. This is the sort of CD you’d listen to while cruising in the car with the window down and miles of road ahead. Although it’s certainly not in the category of high-voltage, rock and roll chaos, Posters Fade is an album of split-personalities: subtle and soothing, versus peppy and intelligent. Like any promising band, Derby has the potential to grow.
The 411: After listening to the entire album, I’m satisfied. It’s the same sort of warm satisfaction that comes with watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High or Clueless for the tenth time. You still have a laugh at that charming slacker, Jeff Spicoli, and shed a tear when Cher Horowitz finally realizes that she’s in love with her ex-step brother and hipster frenemy, Josh. However, at the end of it all, you can’t help but wonder that while you sat on your ass for ninety-five minutes, you were missing something. Don’t get me wrong; in the context of another sweltering summer, Posters Fade is near flawless. But like so many summer flings, I’m not sure my affection will last past September.
