When you have Karen O in your arsenal, it could be very easy to fall back on running through the same playbook again and again. Her repertoire of riot grrrl command, Debbie Harry vogue n’ pose, a sultry wail to put most bubblegum pop and R&B princesses to shame and the attitude of the coolest kid you knew in high school allows her the opportunity to ratchet between vamping and gnashing on the same song and always entrance the audience. Feed her anything and she’ll make it sound like hotshit. If you want an attention-grabber, she makes your first team every time.
But Yeah Yeah Yeahs make gradual morphs each time out. Bouncing from pogo-snap punk from their debut EP to rabble rousers of the love-lathered disco mirror variety on Fever to Tell to deeper restraint and reflection on Show Your Bones and the nasty rock strut of Is Is, the band eases and jerks the tension between their releases, keeping themselves free of the burdens of repetition. But the variations were typically slender, expanding the mold without ever breaking it. With their third full-length, though, they move further afield than ever before, and are destined to lose some long-time fans and gain some fair-weather ones that could eventually fill up the roster comfortably. They don’t abandon their roots by any stretch but they do wander a good ways from the path now and again, sometimes embracing the exotic beasts that purists beg not to feed.
With It’s Blitz!, the change is noticeable right away. Drummer Brian Chase skitters his kit far more often than he beats it pale and guitarist Nick Zinner has temporarily traded in his two-chord crush-axe for a vintage arp. Joining producers Nick Launay and Dave Sitek, Zinner uses it for chunky synth hooks, atmospheric washes, dance-punk wiggles or towering melodrama…it doesn’t matter how it’s used, but it frequently dominates. Yes, the dreaded synthesizer tools dominate this album. Now that the persnickety sticklers have left the room, I can happily report that more often than not, it works. The synths aren’t used superficially to plug in electro-postures to tracks that don’t need ‘em; they’re in service of the songs’ intentions, like the best of new wave’s golden age. Only a couple sound like they should be accompanied by a disco ball, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, anyway.
“Heads Will Roll” is made for glittering clubs, and Karen O trades back and forth between a breathless Goldfrapp whisper and “Atomic”-era belts that tell you to, “Dance ‘til you’re dead.” It might not initially please those awaiting a return to the fervent post-punk of their early days, but it’s indelibly hooky, and should catch on quickly. The other big dance number is less successful, perhaps the most disappointing song on the album. “Dragon Queen” is shuffled into the typically flat spot on albums (before the climax but far removed from the starting gate) and it ain’t half bad, but it doesn’t deliver on a fraction of the geek-hope of the pairing of YYYs with TV on the Radio demigods, Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone (remember, Sitek co-produced). Neither the vocals nor the sax they bring are noticeable in the slightest unless you search for them; a limp funk groove won’t keep you coming back to bother.
Even though precious few moments aren’t covered in sparkles, it’s still the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and they take several opportunities to rock ferociously. The smashing first single, “Zero,” which gets much better once you adjust to the shuddering synth fills and neon polish, translates hopeless alienation and low esteem to a series of vainglories of sexual decadence and anonymity. “So get your leather on,” she says, and later: “You’re a zero. What’s your name? No one’s gonna ask you. Better find out where they want you to go. Try and hit the spot, get to know it in the dark.” Later, “Dull Life”’s refrain hook has the same alluring pounce of their earlier candy rock shocker, “Phenomena,” but in between, Zinner shreds between the frets and Chase whacks the floor toms. Ditto “Shame and Fortune,” which uses a crusty synth bleed over some of their old charm feral scuzz.
The ballads work, too. “Skeletons” flows from a repeating rotator pulse and brings in a faintly Gaelic melody that lets it soar. The words lack joints, but conjure a flood of different translations: “Love, don’t cry…Skeleton, me.” “Soft Shock” is chilly and drawn out, though O wastes no time delivering her typical cryptic phrase jumbles: “Louder, lips speak louder/Better, back together/Still, it’s a shock, shock to your soft side/Summer moon, catch your shut eyes in my room.” Then there’s “Runaway,” which, as far as widescreen anthems go, is pretty huge, perhaps the biggest that YYYs have ever attempted. Beginning with tinkling keys, it then layers on synthscapes and jumpy strings and eventually culminates like a power ballad destined to bring the house down every time. The easy-to-grasp and easier-to-reinterpret lines of, “Run, run, run away/Lost, lost, lost my mind/Want you to stay/Want you to be my prize,” guarantees plenty of cigarette lighters and singalongs at future shows. Dangerous move for the rafters, but they miraculously pull it off.
Of the lot, the most jarring new choice is track nine, “Hysteric,” which not only sounds different than a lot of what preceded it, but manages to tame O’s animal instinct. Instead of commanding like a dominatrix, she turns demure and vulnerable and coos, “You suddenly complete me.” As typified by the terrific cover art, she breaks the emotional shell of surface invincibility that dance rock tends to pile on, and stares emotionally naked across the partiers and appeals to something far more tender than we usually expect from her. It’s not the best song, but it is the one that demands the most attention.
While even champions of the album will mourn the absence of great art-rock riffage, this effort should be judged on its own terms rather than what has become expected from them. There are too many slow-down moments to simply be a dance record, too many hard rocking moments to be nu-rave electropop, too many signs of emotional honesty to not clash with neon rock. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs always bring something different to the table on each outing and this is no exception. Even if, for some ludicrous reason, you can’t get down to these songs, just be patient. They’ll do something else in another couple of years. Based on their catalog evidence, the only guarantee is that it will be worth a listen.
Note: If you plan to try and replicate the shot on the cover, cut a small hole in the top of the egg before attempting. Otherwise, you’ll just end up with a sticky, ugly mess.
"It's Blitz!" is on sale March 31, 2009 from Interscope.
