Good Enough Shouldn’t Be Good Enough Anymore
In the early oughts it was common to hear students at a music store, taking lessons or oogling gear they couldn’t afford, talk to the guitar teachers about wanting to learn Coheed and Cambria songs. It was refreshing. Coheed had a lot of the hooks and pop sensibility of emo and pop punk but the vocalist was unique and the music was a bit less pablum like. They could remind one of Queen in a way—partly because of Claudio Sanchez’s almost helium-like tenor and partly because they toed the line of pop sensibility and baroque grandiosity. Coheed and Cambira and Minus the Bear were beacons in a bleak popular music landscape for young wannabe guitarists and bassists.
Now, it’s 2012 and The Color Before the Sun makes me wonder what’s changed. It’s not Coheed’s fault that nü-metal and screamo/emo and the like are still so popular, and so by walking the line of Say Anything and Rush they’ve remained slightly above the mean. They can’t regress because the mean keeps trending downward and Coheed continues feeding from the trough. Rush is actually a great analogy for this band. Especially their 80’s synth-driven period (arguably highlighted by Subdivisions). The guitars function the same way (paeans to rock history, melodic counter-balances to the upper register of the vocalist, textural anchors). “Colors” also hints at some of Rush’s favorite 80’s touchstones (The Police, especially). The clean guitars and hint of chorus. It’s a ballad but there’s a hint of ennui. “Here to Mars” continues the trend with an opening riff and reverb drenched counterpoint that is very reminiscent of “Walking on the Moon” with distortion. But they put Rush’s spin on it by hinting at Zeppelin (triumphant vocals and crunchy guitars and a hint of roomy Steve Albini-styled drum production). It’s pablum, sure (“It’s in the stars/you’re my everything from here to Mars”), but it’s good pablum.
At the same time, one might wonder about the big picture, what that last sentence means. Maybe it’s an inability to reconcile conceptions of what rock n’roll is supposed to be (Iggy and the Stooges, Sticky Fingers, so on) and the reality. You don’t hear much growth or development between the Oughts and now for Coheed. Which is why it seems like good pablum. It’s because Coheed has a modicum of talent and their lyrics are marginally less hackneyed than most emo and not as sleeve-emblazoned-trying-to-be-literate as Panic! at the Disco. There’s enough metric modulation and unison figures to hold off the nausea for a snob and to hint at that Rush side of the line. But at their heart, Coheed and Cambria are really on the Say Anything side of the continuum. The riffs and modulations are still connecting audience-sing-along chants and 3 or 4 chord progressions which can stick in your craw (just multiple sections with different progressions). “Atlas” is their most compelling argument on this record. It’s a really effective counterpoint of hooky and progressive elements.
“The Audience” (and a few other moments on the record) introduces a slightly new element – a slightly sludgy, riff-metal timbre. But in the end, are Coheed and Cambria and The Color Before the Sun great or has mainstream rock n’roll fallen off that precipitously? Can you really blame this band for consistency of quality and vision amidst a quicksand-like lowest common denominator? Yes. You can. It’s a fine album. It’s a fine band. Even a jaded prick (guilty) can enjoy the album. Maybe not love it, but enjoy it. But you can blame them because we need talented, not-irredeemably-annoying musicians to push boundaries and use their status to try and raise the bar. Wilco tried. Radiohead tried. Nine Inch Nails tried. So yes, Coheed should try, too. There’s not a ton of reason to hate this record or this band. There’s just not a lot of reason to recommend either as a matter of principle. Demand more. Save rock n’roll from “good enough” and “enjoyable.”
Leave a Comment