Perhaps the band's finest album (Maroon - Barenaked Ladies)

Member Name: Wezzo

Product:	Maroon - Barenaked Ladies
Date:	26/05/08 (85 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Every song is good

Disadvantages: None

Hm.. seems I've been reviewing a lot of Barenaked Ladies lately. Can't help it, they're just so good!

2000 saw Candian alternative rockers Barenaked Ladies follow up their commercial breakthrough, "Stunt", with a similar-sounding, yet slightly deeper, follow-up LP: "Maroon". It never reached the same heights of popularity its predecessor did, its lead single proving at best a minor hit on both sides of the Atlantic. This doesn't prove that the quality of the music has declined, however; rather, that the public are all too fickle when it comes to popular music, as "Maroon" is probably Barenaked Ladies' finest album to date, with deeper lyrics and a broader range of musical styles than every before.

The album kicks off with the stomping rocker "Too Little Too Late". Kicking off with a barnstorming electric guitar riff, and with "whoo"s and handclaps a-plenty, it's reminiscent of the last album's "It's All Been Done": an all-out rock song that never lets up. Definitely a good way to start the album: one track in and there's already one catchy chorus indelibly scorched into your mind. Lyrically, BNL's trademark wit is present and correct, though the song is easily the most obtuse of the album, with the narrative buried under contradiction and sarcasm. An unquestionably fun listen.

"Never Do Anything" starts off more folky than its predecessor but soon drives into a more densely-layered rock song, though less intense than "Too Little Too Late". An amusing tale of attepting to get through life never doing anything - "I could make a hint, fill my pockets with more than lint - I'll give you a hint, it involves the Internet". A funky break-down with party noises in the background two-thirds of the way through the song allow the song to break the verse-chorus structure and add a surprise to an already clever song.

Track three, "Pinch Me", was the album's lead single. It's easy to see why - some record exec somewhere undoubtedly noticed the similarities between this and previous smash-hit "One Week": the faux-rap and sing-speak sprechgesang, the pop-culture references. I'd argue this is the superior song though - some cool vocal layering effects, an altogether more downbeat tone, and the classically childish "I could hide out under there / I just made you say underwear" joke ensure that. The crux of the song seems to be about fearing growing up, a theme the band reprise more blatantly later on "Baby Seat", but it's easy to get carried away in the hooks of the chorus and overlook that.

"Go Home", track four, is perhaps the album's best track, and I can't believe it wasn't released as a single. A fast-paced jangly rocker with a country twang, it's a fantastic song with a simple message: "if you need her, you should be there / go home". Replete with witticisms that assert BNL's collective intelligence, were such assertions still required ("If you think of her as Catherine the Great / Then you should be the horse to help her meet her fate"), it's irresistibly catchy and singable and likely to appeal to everyone from kids to grandparents (though if either of those two demographics are listening, you'll want to cut it off at the coda, wherein the band collectively shout "fuck yeah!")

"Falling For The First Time" holds something of a special place in my heart, as it's the song that properly introduced me to the Barenaked Ladies. Well, that's probably not technically true - I'd heard "One Week" and "It's All Been Done" when they were released as singles, and liked them - but when I heard "Falling" on the Malcolm In The Middle soundtrack CD in 2001 I felt like I'd completely re-discovered the band and began to seek out their albums. The song is worthy of its lofty position as my formal introduction: it's another catchy rock song (don't worry, the variety kicks in later) laden with contradictions ("I'm so cool, too bad I'm a loser" .. "Anyone plain can be lovely / Anyone, love can be lost") that articulate first love like few other songs have managed.

Things take a turn for the more subdued with "Conventioneers". A perfectly observed tale of office flirting and the inevitably awkward aftermath of having a fling ("Now I'm in the cab, heading back to my apartment / Everything is drab, and I wish it never started / Now I've landed in this awkward situation / How can I just avoid a conversation?"). The narrative is complemented by an uncharacteristically subdued track that lacks any kind of chorus or bridge; the listener's attention is distracted only by a minimal guitar backing, drums and the occasional piano riff.

"Sell, Sell, Sell" stays calm, but turns towards the melodaramtic end of the spectrum. Variously interpreted as an indictment of Hollywood and an indictment of the Bush administration, it's cinematic in scope and backed with an E Street Band-style Wall Of Sound that builds and builds. The cathartic final chorus - The chorus "Buy buy buy buy sell sell sell / How well you've learned to not discern / Who's foe and who is friend / We'll own them all in the end" - manages to exude emotion while sounding remarkably restrained and singing of something clearly political, rather than any kind of personal experience. The song is also home to one of my favourite BNL lyrics - "In terms of Roman numerals, she's IV league with Roman Polanski". It's just so ridiculously clever, even though it's something of a tangent within the song; I can't help but smile at the minds that put that line together.

Things get a bit more rocking again with "The Humour of the Situation", a classic BNL song is the vein of "Never Is Enough" and "Some Fantastic", that sees an array of situations that meet the titular criteria get played out in the lyrics: a friend walking in while you're denigrating him behind his back; the caller ID that reveals a secret extramarital affair; and, more absurdly, "the boy who moved into the henhouse to sleep" who "woke up with egg on his face when he found out all the hens had crossed the street". But "come on now", BNL assert, "enjoy the humour of the situation". Very fun and very, very catchy.

"Baby Seat" returns the band to the "Pinch Me" theme of fearing growing up: "you can't live your life in the baby seat", listeners are reminded, to a funky bossa nova backing. A lot of fans rate this as the album's weakest song, and they're probably right, but it still has much to recommend, not least the sweet narrative about "Billy and his kid" and the wonderfully observed line "If you think growing up is tough / you're just not grown up enough".

"Off the Hook" strays further into unusual musical territory, beginning with just 808 drums and synth before bass and piano kick in. It builds steadily, beginning as a acoustic folk song but gaining traction after each chorus to build into an all-out rock song. Lyrically it's among BNL's best, the tale of an abused and cheated-on woman finally deciding to "make him eat his words". Playing on the phrase "off the hook" to mean both letting someone get away with what they've done and leaving the phone unhooked, it's a compelling story that BNL allow to straddle the line between melodrama and sincerity wonderfully.

"Helicopters" is another slow-builder, though it's far from a catchy rocker, generally tending towards the more acoustic, balladic end of the spectrum. It appears to be told from the perspective of a tour guide at the site of a horrific tragedy; attempting "to synthesise the sounds of my emotions", but failing to deliver the message to an audience "so skeptical of everything they're told". In perhaps the most simultaneously amusing and chilling line of any BNL song, Steve Page sings "a world that loves its irony moust hate the protest singer" as the band lament the world's loss of emotion and catharsis in favour in cynicism and skepticism. "I'm haunted by a story and I do my best to tell it.. can't even give this stuff away, why would I sell it?" indeed.

"Tonight Is The Night I Fell Asleep At The Wheel" concludes the album, and as was the case with previous album "Stunt" it's the most balladic song on the album. Set to a slow carnival music-style backing, the song quite literally tells of a late-night commuter that falls asleep at the wheel. As with most of BNL's slower songs, the real appeal is the wonderful lyrics: particularly the inspired twist of meaning of the line "you're the last thing on my mind": prior to the crash, she's a million miles away from his thoughts; but as he lies on the road dying, it becomes rather more literally true. A morbid, but sweet, end to the album.

So, there we go. 12 tracks, 45 minutes. If you're a BNL fan that doesn't yet have this album, buy it immediately - just a couple of quid at Amazon marketplace. If you're new to the band, "Maroon" is a good first album, though "Stunt", as the bigger commercial hit would be the more natural point at which to start.

The CD comes with a glossy lyrics booklet and little else. There's no parental guidance sticker but as I said in the review, there's one use of the f-bomb (at the end of "Go Home").

Summary: Highly recommended