Everclear
Import was way back in 2006 with
to the Drama Club,
a record that was stylistically removed from the pop-rock meets
alternative sound the group had been so well known for in the late
1990s. There's a good reason for this, of course--the sole remaining
member of the classic Everclear line-up on that album was Art Alexakis,
and Welcome to the Drama Club
was, for all intents and
purposes, a solo outing for the the
singer/guitarist/songwriter/band-mastermind. It was a great album in its
own little roots-rocky way, but left many a fan wanting a little more,
well,
Everclear-ness.
A lot can happen in six years, though, and such events are bound to influence anyone's musical direction. Three compilation albums and three sets of band members later, we now have
Invisible Stars, easily the best album Alexakis has put out under the Everclear moniker since 1995's
Sparkle and Fade.
The subject matter is just so potent; the musicianship so ripe. The
best material Alexakis has written evokes a particular set of emotions
from listening hearts--ranging from nostalgic warmth to prickly
resignation of present reality--and the twelve tracks that make up
Invisible Stars
does so in droves. Songs like "Be Careful What You Ask For," which has
Alexakis singing "I'm sorry we are living in the car, this isn't what
you asked for when you gave me your heart," warns against inflated
expectations, while "Santa Ana Wind" seems to act as an apology to the
Pacific Northwest for the band's geographical relocation to California.
It's not a regretful apology, though, and Alexakis details his Cali-bound motives as a form of explanation--it's a sort of like "sorry, Portland, you were great and all, but I'm back
home now." It's sad to see musical artists escape the gray Portland overcast, but hey, if they're happy, they're happy.
Given this unabashedly honest lyricism alongside the album's tight and punchy presentation, it's tempting to label
Invisible Stars as a needed return to form
for Everclear, but simply suggesting echoes of efforts past does the
record no justice. There's actually a bit of musical evolution at play
here, and those familiar with the group's back catalog will instantly
recognize a tonal connection with 2003's
Slowmotion Daydream. Like
Daydream, Invisible Stars
is an extremely polished affair sprinkled with distorted powerchords
and hints of synth-driven ambiance, but it takes the concept one step
further with better songwriting, consistent melodic continuation and
nary a weak moment. It also rocks quite a bit harder, and songs like
"Aces" and "Promenade" have elements reminiscent of punk-ier bits from
So Much For the Afterglow. There's even some
Sparkle and Fade-esque
quirkiness in "The Golden Rule." These are all, of course, references
to preceding Everclear albums, but evolution cannot exist without
foundation, and
Invisible Stars seemingly takes on everything
Alexakis has learned from his twenty plus years in the popular music
business and simply perfects it. Longtime fans really do have much to
celebrate.
Though an excellent collection of songs, it should be noted that nothing on
Invisible Stars is instant top-40 material. This may sound like a mark against the album, but it's really not.
Sparkle and Fade
didn't really have any obvious hit-material either ("Santa Monica" as
the lone exception), and that album is largely considered Alexakis' best
effort by fans and critics alike.
Invisible Stars works well
as a cohesive effort, and given its short 36-minute running time, is an
easy album to listen to in its entirety--and that really is the highest
praise any reviewer can give a studio release. This approach may be
prove slightly inaccessible to casual listeners, but honestly, Alexakis
hasn't catered to the mass non-fan crowd since 2000's
Songs From an American Movie Pt 1,
and that's perfectly fine. Producing records for the full album-centric
crowd is a noble effort, and an appreciated gesture for those of us who
know that collecting singles and "greatest hits" collections just isn't
the way to go.