Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Phoenix's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Phoenix New Times

National Features >

  • Riverfront Times

    Where's the Beef?

    Allison Burgess stakes her reputation on mystery meat.

    By Aimee Levitt

  • City Pages

    Carp Killah

    Just in time for summer, it's again safe to fish with bows and arrows in Minnesota.

    By Bradley Campbell

  • Village Voice

    The Man in Our Mirror

    A black American's eulogy to Michael Jackson.

    By Greg Tate

  • Miami New Times

    Smoking Guns

    Miami's latest vice? Black-market cigarettes.

    By Tim Elfrink

Jimmy Eat World

Chase This Light
(Tiny Evil)

Share

  • rss

By Shae Moseley

Published on November 14, 2007 at 4:01pm

The first lyric on Jimmy Eat World's new album, Chase This Light, is a self-assured (if not presumptuous) one-word imperative: "Stay." But an enormous wall of distorted guitars then sucker-punches the listener, just before a raucous burst of power-drill-buzzing guitars bolts the listener to the chair. (In other words, vocalist/songwriter Jim Adkins is basically saying, "Um, yeah, you're not going anywhere for the next 40 minutes.") This particular song ("Big Casino") is perfectly crafted to be an album opener in the same way that the song "Bleed American" — which was renamed "Salt Sweat Sugar" after September 11 — demanded one's full attention from the get-go on the band's self-titled 2001 album. That disc catapulted the Arizona quartet into the mainstream on the strength of undeniably catchy, radio-ready singles such as "The Middle" and "A Praise Chorus." And like those songs, Light finds Adkins painting vivid, nostalgic scenes of the simple moments that are often life's most exciting. Light cements Jimmy Eat World as a band that banks on its strengths (i.e., inventive arrangements that transcend the "emo" tag and glossy production tricks) to create infectious music that's familiar but doesn't pander to a formula. In the process, it finds that elusive place in pop music where mental pictures of a romanticized past serve as fuel to push one toward the mysterious future.