‘Vaughn’ Rock

There’s a type of song that you always hear at the end of a PG-13 Vince Vaughn comedy. The male singer with the slightly off-beat voice; the backyard barbecue country-rock vibe; and the fender rhodes tapping out chords in the background. It’s practically a genre unto itself. If you’re unfamiliar with Vaughn Rock, then look no further than Ark Life’s newest album, The Dream of You & Me.

It’s tough to give a first impression of this album, because this album doesn’t leave much of a first impression. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The album is so perfectly pleasing that you barely even notice that it’s on. There’s not a note out of place, not a single provocative lyric. There’s not even a song in a minor key. But, and here’s the problem, the album never gets above the level of pleasing and into the realm of interesting.

No single song truly rises above the rest (nor does any one song sink below them). Each has its Avett Brothers-style piano (their influence is apparent and pervasive throughout the record), perfect female backup vocals (done by keys player Lindsay Giles, bassist Anna Morsett and guitarist Natalie Tate) and lead singer Jesse Elliott’s restrained twang. One song, “You’re With Me,” although it isn’t any better or worse than the rest, stands out simply because it is the only track on the album to feature the vocal work of Lindsay Giles. The song starts out with the same perfectly on-pitch female choir only for Giles’ voice to break through and sing the first verse. The song, the only one to prominently feature any of the female vocalists, disappointingly ends up being a duet. Each of the female singers puts in so much work on the backup vocals, which often form the backbone of a given song on the album, that it would have been nice to hear them come forward a bit more.

There comes a moment toward the end of the penultimate track, “Some Unheroic Hill,” that perfectly encapsulates everything good and bad about The Dream of You & Me. The track begins softly, but it gradually crescendo’s into a rollicking and loud choir-driven groove. Right at the height of this groove it sounds as if Elliott or one of the female vocalists is going to make a vocal run, maybe even pepper in a growl (the whole album could use a bit of pepper). Instead, the band pulls back, dials down the volume, and the song ends. Perhaps it’s due to a lack of confidence, or perhaps the band is content to make easy listening Vaughn Rock. But the aversion to risk, and the absence of any “umph,” for lack of a better word, ultimately makes The Dream of You & Me a fine but forgettable outing.