Is it possible to be satisfied and disappointed at the same time? Maybe not simultaneously, but I wouldn’t hesitate to describe Together as a satisfying record and an unfortunate disappointment. The latter basis is tied to preconceptions—I’ve anticipated greatness from the New Pornographers ever since their debut Mass Romantic delivered as much. The former is linked to responses both visceral and resounding to what occurs while it unfolds. Is it momentous in its immediacy as the group’s finest hours have been? Absolutely not; critical, then, to my deflated feeling of disappointment. But it envelops the listener loosely, warmly, invoking quiet reactions you might not even notice after multiple spins, and while reexamination might not be an easy impulse, for its quiet and comfortable spell, it is satisfying.
Considering what the New Pornos are—a collective of bright musicians brought together off and on for no better reason than the joyous act of sharing, reacting and reciprocating each other’s ideas and tunes—it’s somewhat alarming that they would reach a fifth album at all. More alarming then is that the initial response suggests they had difficulty in finding energy and hooks rattling in the wake. If enthusiasm and inspiration weren’t overflowing, why bother at all? It’s too cynical (and these folks too freewheeling) to assume it’s a name brand cash grab. And overworn endeavors by groups lacking the material to warrant a new album don’t sound like this. On those bleak occasions, there’s frustration without the angular tension influencing nerve, signatures are copped lazily, and the sound stagnates dolefully before the songs even end. But even if there is a lack of palpable energy in Together’s tracklist, there’s nothing stagnant, repetitive or frustrated about it. They’re not bored, just relaxed.
Despite that lack of urgency, this is not necessarily a sedate affair, frequently leaning even towards the warm and sprightly side, especially in the early going. “Your Hands (Together)”’s crunchy guitar spikes, the arcing piano lines and Kathryn Calder’s pristine vocals of “Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk,” and the combo of scissoring cellos and sparkling chimes with an ingratiating “oh-oh-oh” hook on “Moves” all initially seem to be attempts to recreate the bubbly blitzkrieg of Mass Romantic’s most dizzying numbers, though only through comparison to the sleepier tracks on this record would you ever remotely think of, say, “Mystery Hours.” More often than not, they seem to be melding the denser compositions of Twin Cinema with the softer, more melodious detours of Challengers; the exuberance is more measured (“evenly dispersed,” one might say). An abundance of string arrangements could have been suffocating (and nearly is), but the ornate presentation over or underneath clomping rhythms and sighing refrains gives it textural warmth more than a sweltering, sticky-sweet blanket.
As it was in the past, the band is more comfortable with big hooks and shout-along choruses than anything set to a dreamier pace and volume. “My Shepard” almost succeeds because of Neko Case’s impossibly beautiful powerhouse voice, but runs a little long (unnecessary coda and all). Likewise, her voice enhances “Crash Years,” but utilizing an ascending hook as approximate to Fastball’s “Out of My Head” as possible was a mistake—even the tepid thrill it might have offered is spoiled somewhat by being incomplete, and while you’re kinda glad it’s different, it leaves blanks through muscle memory. Later in the show, “Valkyrie in the Roller Disco,” which misleads you by using words like “Valkyrie” and “roller disco” and then presenting the album’s mellowest cut, features a sleepwalking pace and typically inscrutable phrasing (“Valkyrie, don’t go home, it’s not right, it’s not right…you’re a goldmine”). And “Daughter of Sorrow” represents a time when the criticism of instrumental overkill is appropriate, leaping from whispery intimate to almost Meatloaf-size in a flash. It would be easy to accuse the album with the old adage about a multitude of cooks spoiling the broth (high profile guests like Will Sheff, Annie Clark and Zach Condon are hardly even noticeable if you don’t know exactly where to look), but all of the New Pornos’ albums feature wide and random contributions, and the unpredictable, shifting nature between approaches makes for some of their most amusing charms.
Despite the various acclimations and misgivings, this is the first New Pornos album with neither shining, standout gems nor mild misfires (though some poor sequencing choices cause the momentum to flag towards the end). Even Challengers had “Failsafe,” “My Rights Versus Yours” and “All the Old Showstoppers.” Its only real shortcoming comes in the form of several codas tacked on at the end of songs that don’t need them. When the New Pornos “went s’plorin” as songs like “Testament to Youth in Verse” and “The Bleeding Heart Show” resplendently wandered astray beyond the midpoint, we were left exhilarated by both the surprise of the twist and the rapture of the melody. But the exits of tracks like “My Shepard” and “Moves” lack the grand, sweeping, even cinematic qualities of earlier graceful extensions; these are muted, and simply dawdle. Ostentatiousness alone doesn’t fail them—being heedlessly over-the-top can serve a function for the emotional response being sought. But organically, these are mostly just superfluous, a poisonous relation to the tight, spry world of power pop they so thrillingly mastered.
In all, Together is less a departure than Challengers’ mellow, inward-focused effort (ambition somewhat misplaced considering this outfit’s strengths), though both were aptly named. If that previous LP “challenged” the audience to see beyond the strenuously forestalled ideal of pop gem cramming that worked so well for them on their early records, this one finds this supergroup/side project/pop powerhouse sounding as intrinsically united and confident as they’ve ever been “together.” If that boisterous glee is sometimes lacking, the commitment and professionalism isn’t, a luxury I didn’t expect to ever be evident from this gang. Their wonderful first three albums all entertained and energized on the very first listen, while the slightly misguided Challengers resulted in a “grower” that didn’t do much growing beyond early reaction (good or bad). Together flowers in the sinking so that, while satisfaction and disappointment remain present, the former outweighs the latter by a large degree.
"Together" is on sale May 4, 2010 from Matador.
