Degeneration Street hits the mark for an above-average rock album so fucking well, there is barely a thing I could say about it that wouldn’t sound inane or contrived.
(Metaphor, adjective, metaphor, analogy, adjective)
The Dears sometimes sound like an Arcade Fire cover band fronted by Kele Okereke of Bloc Party.
(Influences romanticismofthepast influences romanticismofthepast influences)
It works quite well most of the time; “5 Chords” is the best track and its arrangements would not sound out of place on Neon Bible.
(Don’tmakeitseemlikeyou’verunoutofideas Don’tmakeitseemlikeyou’verunoutofideas)
But, sometimes, the emulations become too overt as Degeneration Street gets through its second half.
(CONVERSATIONAL. Do it then smile, do it then smile)
Geez, those lyrics are bleak, amirite?!
(HoW tHe FuCk Is AnYoNe SuPpOsEd To KnOw iF YoU LiKeD iT oR nOt If YoU dOn’T ExPlIcItElY sTaTe WhEtHeR yOu WoUlD rEcOmMeNd It?)
I recommend Degeneration Street, even if the fact that reviewing 35 albums in three weeks has stretched my writing ability disconsolately thin within an inch of its lifeEe!
* * *
Bear with me, folks. They can’t all be winners.
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