Lay Your Hands Into the Soil

Anticipation often plays sordid tricks on fan boys. The two or three months leading up to the release of an album can often be a living hell for avid listeners because the entire amount of time is spent wondering how it will sound and hoping, even praying, that it will sound how YOU envisioned it from day one. It gets to the point where different schools of thought arise, and fans of good bands begin to form different sects. It becomes religious, political groups form. The "They're Better Live" group emerges, ridiculing and slamming the "Studio Guru" group because of their less than holistic standpoint on the finer qualities of the juice of the music.

That seems to be the particular case in point found within 123, and it's a dilemma that has pierced the infrastructure. There are some frequenters of the venue who simply get and understand what Librarians are doing, and that just because it's dance music doesn't mean it can't be somewhat liberating. And their live show has supplied me with countless hours of admiration, feelings of lazy metropolitan indifference, jealousy, romance-fuelled psychological romps with myself and my female companion, and even studious brooding (as a guitarist, I like to scan their fretboards in an attempt to read between the lines), so it would be dumb to say I don't like them or their music. They have filled in the gaps in the soundtrack of my 123 existence perfectly, which is really a very volatile patch of chaos, if I think about it. A lot has happened since late 2003. They are a constant, and at times an unpredictable variable (The Clash Benefit, anyone?).

So when it comes to reviewing the album, all of these factors must be considered before criticizing/hailing it. One may be compelled to turn one's back on his countrymen in times of war and political upheaval, especially when a finished product from a band with just as many enemies as friends is in question (former enemies, maybe?). But I've found myself at a mute point in the journey of hard decision-making. The jury is hung. And it seems that I am happy at pointing out the inconsistencies as well as the beautiful moments in Librarians latest alibi, "Alright Easy Candy Stranger."

Which incidentally brings me to the first noticeably awkward portion of this review: my opinion of the album title. There is only one thing about the title that bugs me, and that's everything--its empty meaning, ambiguity, and its lack of care for the city that birthed it. With an album that is so chockfull of Morgantown culture and poetical devices (isn't "inside's the new outside" an Aaron Hess rant of some kind?), why not just go the matter-of-fact route? I'd personally rather it be called "Morgantown's Finest Beatnik Explosion of Slightly Perverse Yet Still Somehow Original Dance-Wave Ever" than what has been chosen. Be blunt; be honest with the drunks.

Onto the actual music. Oh, the first track. I remember watching Librarians' first performance of "Culture Vulture" back when it was probably called "Ryan's Precious Little Beat," or something. They were coming off a pretty good string of shows, having just opened for Blood On the Wall and Enon weeks prior, so there was a pretty nascent buzz surrounding them. The now instantly recognizable fast-strumming parts that give it its edge were not intact, and in fact, all I remember was the main melody. It struck me as a potentially anthemic kind of song, but i'm not sure the band was so confident at the time. Ryan actually apologized after they finished playing the song, as if he had just subjected the chill Fall crowd to a virtual cacaphony. Relax, it wasn't that bad. The song was there. Now, after hearing it in its final form, I can say that this song has seriously had one intense ride through its near two-year lifespan (it's probably older than that). Slowing it down hasn't hurt it at all, and I can finally hear the lyrics. Best ending of any song on the album, not only because of its feeling, but because of its mention of rich men in Bentleys looking down on Indie kids. It's so weird how the beats shaking the cabs of the Bentleys aren't much different than the ones emanating from the thin walls of 123.

My favorite live track by the band is no doubt "Sweet Sugar Lip." That song in particular has always propelled my fascination of the group. I can't say I like the way it's recorded here, the build up just isn't loud enough and I feel like the interlude/breakdown near the end of the song is somewhat overshadowed by the production. It's sad, but at least I can close my eyes and pretend I'm at 123.

"Wax Teeth," "The 9-ft. Tattoo" and "Fool Full of Favorites" are, in my opinion, the best tracks on the album. They are relatively low-key songs without a hint of pretension. Straightforward, if you will. Nothing in these songs is taken too seriously and since none of them are that old, fans have the luck of not having to worry about production translations.

"Wax Teeth" is actually my nominee for best album track because of its austere and casual, yet nasty, tone. I don't know what it's about or anything involving the lyrics, but it is the overall best deal on the album. You can accuse me of being that guy who really likes the singles and gives the rest of the tracks only modereate attention; I could care less. It has great vocals ( not too intentionally sexy sounding, see: half of the other tracks), a nice selection of guitar musicianship (a structured main riff that doesn't sound TOO structured PERFECT), and great percussion work. Nothing wrong with this track--it's spotless.

Some of the other tracks should've taken cues from the aforementioned tunes. It seems somewhere in the process of recording the band was injected with an overly high morale or something, because some of this is just too focused on dance, too robotic, too (dare i say) '80s/Club...too...Huey? There are many guitar flourishes that seem like an afterthought, only put there to take minds off the fact that they sound a little like some other bands we've all heard of. What's the point in caring about that though? There are parts that I wish would've been left out soley based on the reason that you can't add on to what already clicks with an audience. It can't and shouldn't be done. But we live in foolhardy times.

That aside, it seems that I have chosen a middleground. I like it. Can't deny that. I'm not going to give it a rating of any kind, however, because that is really cheap and most readers only concentrate on the rating and will later continue to ask why this band received this particular score as if it is a major injustice that their favorite band got a B- instead of a B+. There isn't one person I don't agree with when I'm told "They slowed the tracks down; now I can't dance," or "I love this lovely piece of nostalgia reborn." I sympathize with both sides of the spectrum becuase I am an objective workhorse of a writer who sees the beauty in every criticism, whether bawdy and unfocused, or sycophantically retarded. In other words: you'll never see me taking sides on an issue that is as polarized as this one. I will continue liking the band while still sticking strong to my convictions.

Hunter S. Thompson once said that it is very common for a man to stand in the middle of a road in a place where nothing is happening. When and if Librarians quit putting out records to become DJs, clerks, journalists, construction workers, WHATEVER, THEN we can rest on our laurels and be ambivalent towards the subject. But for now, there is definitely plenty of goings-on in their realm, lots of action, so it's hard for many people not to pick a side of the road to be on at this point. The traffic is just too much to bear.

I choose the freedom of understanding.