Let me start by saying, I have a ton of respect for Dallas Green (aka City and Colour). To be able to juggle the interests and politics of a band is never easy, but it must be like riding a unicycle on a trampoline to balance it with a solo career that’s both more recognized both critically and commercially. So it’s disappointing that with each listen to Fragile Bird, the first single from the new Little Hell album, I become more depressed. Not because it’s a bad song, but because it promises so much more than it delivers.
The opening guitar riff sounds distant and weary, but soon crawls under the ropes allowing it’s more muscular partner to run over you like an acupuncturist on a pogo stick. The rhythm section sit far behind the beat like Big Sugar after a Cheech and Chong film festival, and you’re left hoping Dallas has found his inner James Brown.
Unfortunately, the production has other designs. When the vocals come in, we are treated to a reverb drenched, multi-layered Snuggie of a track that leaves you toasted in comfort, but completely insulated from any of the pain or desperation the lyrics are trying to convey.
Thankfully, the anesthetic finally ebbs when the guitar solo kicks in. Sounding like my 18 year old self battling nausea and gravity to find the toilet at 6am on a Sunday morning, it braces itself on the walls, and thumps against a few door frames much like a great Richard Lloyd leads (see Matthew Sweets Sick of Myself).
So who do you blame this on? The album was produced by Alex Newport, (At the Drive-In, the Mars Volta), and I’ve never seen him pull anything like this before. As a matter of fact, I have a friend (Marcus Wanka), who has recorded with him, and the results were quite the opposite (see Gran Casino).
Regardless of who’s to blame, it’s a common problem these days. With a ransom of possibilities in the studio, people have increasing difficulty focusing on the song and performance. Cool sounds are jammed together to battle for attention like a shape sorter stuffed by a sledge hammer. And the quest for cool sounds seems to have overtaken the need to get the performance right.
For some City and Colour fans, the departure from the straight acoustic sounds will seem a betrayal. Good riddance to them. Most will embrace the newfound freedom Dallas is testing. Myself, I’ll reserve judgement until I see if he’s got the courage to follow through. His take on Neil Young’s Old Man at the Juno’s was further proof that as a performer, he has the ability to pull scabs off even the oldest wounds. But this song just smothers them with a sandwich sized band-aid.
