Everclear

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.