Summertime has traditionally been an important season for music, both in terms of sales and emotional identification: the kids are out of school, the sun shines for what seems like a lifetime, warm breezes and long sunsets make you want to stay out all night and listen to your favorite records. In recent years the coveted Hit of the Summer spot has been occupied mostly by dance and rap tracks. Backing up azzes and beeping in Jeeps have been just the right musical and lyrical popsicle to lick on the way to beach or the mall. Although the suburbs won't be ditching Jay-Z, How I Learned to Stop Worrying, the debut album from Philadelphia's Bigger Lovers, harks back to an older style of summer hit perfected by the Beach Boys in the early '60s, with a strain of langourous melancholy that perfectly recalls the humid late afternoons of the season. The Lovers combine rock-band instrumentation (guitar, bass, vocals and drums, mostly, with some piano and other embellishments), hand claps and "ah-ah" exclamations, harmonizing backing vocals and moments of country into a classic blast of engaging pop-rock music.
The record opens with the big guitar burst of "Catch & Release", followed by an easy Beach Boys feel on "I'm Here"; both of these tracks end with a smattering of clapping and whistles, providing a live-in-a-small-club atmosphere. The live effects disappear thereafter, and a number of other songs have an odd feel about them, as if they were all recorded in different places. This isn't the case, apparently, as the album was recorded in Delaware at the end of 1999, with Daniel Presley (Imperial Teen, Breeders, Spain) producing. The eclectic sound actually benefits the record, emphasizing its laid-back nature. The vocals are mixed low, sometimes making it difficult to understand what songwriter/lead vocalist/bassist Scott Jefferson is singing about. "Forever is Not So Long" pokes fun at being in a band, asking, "What did you think of those guys last night?/Were they ok, do you think they're alright?/They sound like something I've heard before/But the singer was a drag." The mid-tempo "Steady on Threes" delves into the rocky-relationship territory that inspires many of the songs. Instead of soul baring, the Lovers prefer the backward glance, as in "Summer (Of Our First Hello)", in which sprightly bah-bah-bahs can't disguise the thorns already growing on the rose of new romance. The chorus laments "In the summer of our first hello, things went wrong./Now the summer of our first hello's gone." Even the present seems draped in hazy nostalgia. "Casual Friday" includes a spoken interlude about a plane crash; this bit sounds exactly (to the point of homage, or copyright infringement) like King Missile.
"Threadbare" and "America Undercover" are the highlights of the record. The former is a barrelling, perfect three minute break-up song ("You'll leave me threadbare, I swear") that even finds time for a short guitar solo and could stand beside Superchunk's recent work. A scratchy lap steel guitar lends "America Undercover" a country feel, as the narrator recovers from a hangover and works out his own feelings about the slow-moving air of a hot summer day. "I'll never drink that much again/I tell myself but I know I'm lying," sings Jefferson, before noting wryly, "With the Superfunds and the cum-stained dress/What I mess, no wonder I'm drinking/When I could be thinking of things to do and places to go/But it's 90 degrees and I'm not moving, no way nothing doing." The lengthy "Out of Sight" ends the album; it's another rich, country-flavored meditation on how life moves fast, no matter how slow the song.
If you're looking for a soundtrack for the next few months, look no further: How I Learned to Stop Worrying has your needs well in hand...though a beach ball is not included.
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