By New Times
By Derek Askey
By Mark Deming
By Serene Dominic
By Jason Keil
By Robrt L. Pela and Amy Silverman
By Jeff Moses
By Serene Dominic
God only knows what anyone loafing around Arlington, Virginia-based Inner Ear Studios thought upon hearing playbacks of Jets to Brazil's just-released second album, Four Cornered Night. Recording home to bands such as Fugazi, Bluetip, the defunct Jawbox (whose former front man, J. Robbins, has produced both Jets to Brazil discs) and other like-sounding groups that have pushed hard-core to the edges of aggression and experimentation, the smooth pop-rock wafting out of the studio was more likely to conjure visions of Topanga Canyon and a circa-1970s sunset than the politically charged landscapes of any of Inner Ear's other clients.
Rooted firmly in the American pop tradition, Four Cornered Night retains the same band members who were featured on Jets' debut, 1998's Orange Rhyming Dictionary, but their presence is about the only holdover. Augmented by strings and piano, and set at a rather leisurely pace, the album is a decidedly more downbeat affair than the growling guitars of Orange. Even more so than the previous record, it puts a healthy amount of distance between Jets and the band members' previous groups.
Composed of drummer Chris Daly, bassist Jeremy Chatelain, guitarist Brian Maryansky and singer-guitarist Blake Schwarzenbach -- all of whom have spent time in seminal underground rock outfits of the recent past: Texas Is the Reason, Handsome, The Van Pelt, and Jawbreaker, respectively -- Jets to Brazil has been dealing with unreasonable expectations from its inception. When Orange Rhyming Dictionary was released, it was one of the most anticipated and scrutinized indie debuts in recent memory. But when critics couldn't directly align it with any of the band members' previous projects, they went searching for references. And many of them came up with the same word.
"The first couple of times I saw the Britpop reference, I didn't mind so much," Schwarzenbach says, over the phone from his home in Brooklyn. "But it just seemed like everyone was falling back on that, and it was lazy. And most of all, it was just wrong, totally off-base."
Critics could be forgiven for jumping to the nearest conclusion. After all, the layered nature of the guitars on Orange Rhyming Dictionary(all played by Schwarzenbach, as Maryansky would join the band after the record was completed) called to mind the work of shoegazer Brit bands like Ride, while Schwarzenbach's vocals had calmed from the throaty shout of Jawbreaker to a snarl comparable to Richard Butler of the Psychedelic Furs. When every attempt at comparison starts a new British Invasion, it's not hard to get the wrong impression.
So, with that in mind, if listening to Four Cornered Night sounds like the group is screaming, "We're an American band," Schwarzenbach agrees.
"It's a very American record, especially in the lyrics," he says. "There are stories on the album that could only be heard in America. I think it's a local record. There's a failed romance that's at the center of the album. And one song in particular ["Mid-Day Anonymous"] deals with a murder, a very American murder."
The record shows Schwarzenbach, maturing as a songwriter, dealing with those themes of heartbreak and violence in a far more consistent way than he did on Orange Rhyming Dictionary, which was slightly hindered by the scattered content of the songs.
"The first album was written over the course of a few years, sort of in the aftermath of Jawbreaker," he explains. "I had demoed them on an eight-track in my apartment, and then the band sort of worked off of those tapes. Four Cornered is a much more personal record, it's more focused. I was in a cabin in Canada, on vacation, and I had a piano and a limited amount of time, and that's where most of the songs came from."
The sound is relaxed and very melodic, Schwarzenbach's voice right up front as the band members play with a seasoned economy, as if they'd been working this kind of laconic pop for years. Even the songs with more teeth, like the somewhat glam-ish "Milk and Apples," keep melody as the first priority. The album marks the first time Schwarzenbach has shared guitar-playing duties in the studio. "It was hard to give up that control at first, but Brian is such an amazing player," he says. "It gave me a chance to concentrate on vocals and especially keys and acoustic guitar."
Schwarzenbach's expanded palette presents his songs in Technicolor, with a solo more likely coming from a Hammond organ than a distorted electric guitar, though the band exhibits the same kind of swagger as on Orange, and Schwarzenbach's lyrics continue to mix effective observations with a striking sense of imagery. Yet while the new sound isn't necessarily a self-consciously retro one, it does make the listener wonder what kind of template the band was working from.
"I don't know, it just seems like a natural progression to me: I was listening to Sweetheart of the Rodeo by the Byrds a lot," Schwarzenbach says. "And I was very influenced by that album's tone, but I don't think the record really sounds like that." Perhaps not, but the record does have more affinity with the Byrds' slab of country-rock beauty than much of today's music.