Falling Up is one of those bands that feels like a big anomaly no matter how I try to categorize them. Ever since the group debuted in 2004 with its power-chord heavy, DJ-effect-laced brand of Christian rock, I was tempted to tout them as the thinking young man's alternative to rather lifeless and unintelligent alternatives such as Kutless (to which the band is often compared, which I suspect would never have happened if the two bands weren't both from the Portland, Oregon area and personal friends of one another). And I still think that they're a rather thoughtful band, an unusual exception to the usual CCM rule of making all of your lyrics plain as day and not bothering with anything cryptic that might require interpretation or convey meaning in more of an impressionistic way. But as the years have gone by, I've started to realize that there's an uneasy mixture of elements in Falling Up's musical approach, one that makes it easy to simultaneously criticize and rave about the band. At first glance, you'd simply figure that they were one of those trendy "mall-rock" sort of acts, like a smoothed-out Linkin Park or Hoobastank butting heads with Hellogoodbye. Then you'd hear their poetic, stream-of-consciousness lyrics and wonder how the target audience (presumably Christian youth) would ever get around to unearthing the meaning of the songs without looking at the liner notes and assuming the Jessy Ribordy's explanations and Bible verse citations actually connected to the words he was singing in a way that could be traced by any mind other than his own. And then you'd have to wonder whether they were going for some sort of original mix of light-speed guitar riffing and rhythmic electronic elements, or just hammering out slightly different iterations of the same old musical obstacle course on every single song - as good as the band sounds, there are times when their songs all seem to blur together (this was a common criticism on their second album, Dawn Escapes). And then, having pondered all that, and thinking you knew where Falling Up was coming from and that you were able to live with their shortcomings, the band would only proceed to throw you another loop on their third album, Captiva.
So, yeah. Belonging to Falling Up's fandom is a rather tricky position to defend at times.
But then I've always had an affinity for bands who were willing to rise above the trappings of their subgenre or subculture (generally both, in the case of Christian bands) and give us something memorable. If nothing else, Falling Up has proven that they're open to criticism (they acknowledged that a variance in tempos and sonic textures might be a good thing to pursue this time around) and that they can weather the storm despite a seeming inabaility to keep a full-time guitarist. How have they dealt with this problem on Captiva? Well, for starters, they've scaled back the guitars, which are still present as a backbone to the group's sound, but more of a rhythmic instrument than a lead one. Piano and synthesizer now stand out on most of the group's songs, giving them a sort of "ambient rock" feel instead of taking their sound in a techno-pop or rap/rock sort of direction (either of which wouldn't have been too much of a stretch after their first album, Crashings). They've accomplished goal #1 - making their songs stand out more - but in doing so, they may have run the risk of confusing their mostly young audience by making the songs not "rock" as much. There are fewer tracks on Captiva that will put your brain in an immediate strangelhold, and this doesn't bother me now that I've grown accustomed to it, but it was definitely a bit disappointing at first, and it will probably be more so to a lot of the group's younger fans. I'm not one to insist that a band must cater to their audience's status quo. I'm just pointing out that this one's gonna need some time to settle in.
As for the lyrics - well, they haven't changed much. If anything, Jessy's only gotten more convoluted with his song titles (which, on this album, read like they should be the track listing for the soundtrack to The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou or something), his references to them in seemingly every song but the one that actually bears the title being referenced, and his little hints at sci-fi and fantasy-based imagery, all in support of weighty theological issues that you'd never guess were being probed underneath the surface without reading the liner notes. Perhaps this only serves to reveal that I don't fully understand where the band is coming from, but then, I don't exactly get that challenge from a lot of youth-friendly Christian rock bands, so I can't complain. However, there are times when I have to wonder if a lot of Jessy's thoughts are simply discontinuous musings which could be telling a better job of telling a unified story than they really are. I don't mind not understanding the meaning, but to then be told the meaning and not see how the apparent non-sequiturs in the song lead to a deeper understanding of that meaning can be frustrating. At times, I just have to accept it as escapist nonsense. Perhaps the band's reach exceeds their grasp in that regard. But I can't say that it's not fun trying to make some sense of it.
The good news about Captiva is that once you accept it for not being the full-throttle rock record that you may have expected, you'll find that some of the more obscure electronic moments on the album shimmer more brightly than a few of the album's obvious radio singles, which seem like more standard fare from my viewpoint. That's probably because they're more imaginative with the different tones and textures that can come out of their keyboards than the ones that can come out of their guitars (not that guitars are limited in this sense, but the band seems to be limited in their understanding of how to use the instrument as a tool to further diversify their sound). So it's the piano and synth "riffs" on this album that make the songs stand out to me more. If you were a big fan of standout tracks like "Contact" or "Arafax Deep" on their last two albums (or some of the stuff on their remix album Exit Lights, though let's be honest, a few of those had virtually nothing to do with the original songs that were supposedly being remixed), then this will be a cause for rejoicing. If your Falling Up favorites tend to be the more aggressive tracks like "New Hope Generation" or "Jackson Five", then you might be out of luck. I can listen to Crashings and Captiva back to back and still tell that it's the same band, but it's weird how I loved that album so much three years ago, and now it feels a bit colorless in comparison to Captiva. I'm still torn on which I like better, because both have different strengths.
A Guide to Marine Life
Float by open windows
What a shipwreck, what a shipwreck
Circles running through my veins
With the vates set, with the vates set...
The band has always started their records off with a nice little ambient synth intro, but this time, they take the moodier approach, easing in sideways with a mellow verse that sets up an underwater scene, with a diver swimming about in a shipwreck, trying to figure out either how it got there, or how to escape from it. A vintage programmed rhythm kicks in for a few bars, and then they transition into a slick chorus with soaring guitar, giving us our first glimpse of the glory shining from above: "Lights in the sky, calling me out, calling me out". It's my favorite song on the album, and definitely the best one they could have chosen to open with, since it creates a bridge between their old style and their new one.
Hotel Aquarium
A lesson in breathing is never using control
Seconds from this place, I've never been so unsure...
This one's kind of the wrong way to bridge the gap for fans of the old sound. It's one of the most guitar-based of the new songs (and therefore an unsurprising choice for lead single), and I kind of enjoy the siren-like lead guitar riff, but once the rhythm guitar and the drums kick in, it's too sluggish and full of the obvious power chords that all of the mall rock bands have been overusing for about a decade now. Little bits of piano can be found bouncing around in between the louder guitars, and there's some electronic warping that leads us nicely from the bridge back into the chorus, plus an all-around catchy melody, and I'm intrigued by the spiritual metaphor about breathing underwater, whatever that may turn out to mean. But for a song that clocks in under three minutes, it doesn't quite have the right amount of "zip" to it. It merely does its job dutifully, and gets out of the way.
Goodnight Gravity
Until I see the sun splash up the night sky
You're calling out to turn the planet new...
When I made that Hellogoodbye comparison earlier, I was thinking of this song. Sort of. It's all in the way that the music gives the band's electronic tools a good workout while still sounding like the work of an energetic, fun-loving rock band, and thankfully, there are no lyrical similarities - no wall-to-wall cliches or self-conscious in-joke references here. That said, there are about a million Christian bands who have made the gravity analogy, so I can't say that the lyrics are totally original, but Falling Up's phrasing at least gives the impression that they're not reiterating the same old sentiments you've heard before. Defying gravity, in this song, is a parallel for grace that sort of reflects the reason behind the band's name. it certainly is a difficult song to resist when that blazing lead guitar riff and those unflinchingly happy synthesizers go head to head during the chorus.
Captiva
In a million, in a million pieces I am breaking up
To the future, to the future, science is the circle taught...
I absolutely adore the starry-eyed piano intro to this song. It's like witnessing a new galaxy being born right before your very eyes, and it's one of those things that can't help but leave you slightly disappointed when the meandering rhythm of the verse morphs into more of a straightforward rock chorus. Despite that, it's still a unique and intriguing song that (according to Jessy's notes, anyway) explores the tension between faith and science, and the boundaries of what each can explain. He could probably write entire essays on the topic if he wanted to (he and David Crowder should form a club!), but the point of these lyrics seems to be more exploration than explanation. I admire the band's willingness to eschew the big rock ending for a drawn-out, spacy vibe where the sparse piano and low synthetic hum return us to the expansive feel of the song's intro. That's some beautiful stuff right there!
Helicopters
Await for an inlay to monitor
But notice that my hands shake and my vision blurred
Dimming 'til the lights off...
One of the album's weirdest tracks appears next, establishing a bafflingly complex, but irresistible time signature that took quite a bit of careful counting before I finally got the hang of it. (I think it's 14/8 or something like that.) It's certainly awesome to hear these guys break out of 4/4... and consequently, I'm a bit bummed when they break back into it for another straightforward (and in this case, repetitive) chorus. Jessy seems to be singing from the point of view of a pilot who has landed on an alien planet, and who is surprised by the foreign, barely breathable atmosphere - there's that theme of breathing again, that begs us to play closer attention and try to make something of the lyrical continuity between different songs. This track could use some lyrics in its bridge, or a return to the hypnotic groove that it started with, but all in all, it's not a bad little experiment.
Maps
This last hour, the night dropped into the sea
The light spread wider, the sky broke open and free...
Here's a track that doesn't feel like an experiment at all. While I admire Falling Up's realization that they needed to mix up the tempos and tones of their songs to make them stand out, I'm not terribly happy to see them attempting the typical, mid-tempo, middle-of-the-road pop/rock track. It's got a thoroughly dry feeling to it, no matter how much they might try to spruce it up with a pretty melody - the acoustic guitar strumming is even and unimaginative, the piano playing is too close to the patented "hit every eighth note with an even amount of force" approach employed by countless Coldplay wannabes, and basically, there's nothing distinctly "Falling Up" about this song, other than maybe the overlapping vocals during the chorus, which help to fill what would otherwise be an uncomfortable amount of plain, empty space. The lyrics, while there aren't that much to them, are poetic in their brevity: "The further from You, the harder I try to exist" is a line that stands out in particular. Of course, the song has nothing whatsoever to do with maps, which end up getting mentioned in some other song. (So maybe I found something distinctly Falling Up-esque about it after all.)
How They Made Cameras
Under the trees from moonlit fears
We circle the start
Moving the leaves to flutter free
It's after the heart...
Another strikingly beautiful song appears next, slowly unfolding over a swirling 6/8 rhythm, over which notes from the piano cascade beautifully in a repeating up-and-down pattern. This song seems almost too drawn out at first, because Jessy takes an even bigger departure from his former tongue-twister approach, leaving a lot of space around many of the words and lines in this song, which makes the pacing of it difficult to follow at first, but also ensures that it crescendoes exactly where it needs to near the end. The chorus rings out with a surprisingly transparent and stirring sentiment: "No more star-crossed tears, He is drawing near". it's a song that finds Falling Up completely comfortable in their skin as a band in love with Jesus - their sometimes obscure lyrical approach doesn't mean that there isn't room for a refreshingly clear expression of their spiritual beliefs. Of course, such things have to be earned with compelling music, instead of shoved at the audience by brute force. I think that's been accomplished here.
Good Morning Planetarium
The twilight turns to day
With all Your love displayed
The stars they bow in awe
When the lost return to You...
I suppose that this song's title would be an appropriate complement to "Goodnight Gravity" - once again, there are probably more thematic links to discover between the songs than I've taken the time to do so far. This one starts out with sort of a geeky synthesizer dance, unfolding into another mid-tempo song that succeeds where "Maps" fails by having a bit more of a rhythmic kick to it. The lyrics here are among Falling Up's most straightforward, describing the universe as a testament to God's creative ability, and asking the surprisingly simple question, "Is anybody out there who's cold and incomplete inside? I can hear Him calling, come and follow Me, my child." Honestly, if all of Falling Up's lyrics were like that, I probably wouldn't be a fan, but as a break between some of their headier songs, I can appreciate this heart-on-the-sleeve approach.
Murexa
Streetlights in the distance shed light on gravity
As the traffic moves to the clothes he's seen
Where the spilling of secrets on the floor
cause to question deep in our hearts...
Alright, here's a good dose of obtuse obscurity for you. This song more closely mirrors the dense "crash course" approach of their previous albums, with more complex guitar work and strange phrases flying all over the place. In doing this, the band demonstrates that less is more - five or six tracks of this stuff in a row made the back half of Dawn Escapes virtually indistinguishable, but place this sort of a song around others that don't sound like it, and it becomes strangely addictive. This one should definitely be a rock radio single (of course, no one will ever remember the title, but then, that never stopped R.E.M.)
Drago or the Dragons
This mathematics unset
Starts a neck to sink her teeth into again
A late aesthetic exit
Is impossible, but not from rafter sins...
Here's another track with a fascinating intro - it's probably just a different synthesizer voice, but it sounds like some sort of a space-age harp or harpsichord or dulcimer or whatever. It gives the song an epic, mythical sort of mood, which vanishes into the wall of thick guitars later on - there's a bit of schizophrenia here, but I can't complain, because the band's got another solid, unique rocker in their arsenal. (In case you didn't know what "murexa" was, they mention it in this song among all of the verbal flotsam and jetsam, so maybe the context will help you figure it out. Good luck with that.) Amidst the tongue-twister is a (relatively) simple, anthemic chorus in which the guys declare, "Gravity will retrace every step!" Hmm, there we go with the gravity analogy again. And then we get to do the robot dance in deep space, thanks to a rather brilliant synth breakdown that appears as an extended coda after the point where the traditional modern rock song would have simply called it a day. It's pretty slick stuff.
Arc to Archtilles
If you are, then you know the phone's tapped
The last of the maps are breaking codes
You've seen the night thieves
Like sharpened knife bleeds through...
I've heard Falling Up do some lovely pseudo-ballads before, but I must say that when I heard this song's delicate piano intro, I was quite shocked to hear a song this slow from them. True to form, they can't help but fill in the space with drums and guitars later on, but the opening verse and chorus are surprisingly peaceful and dreamlike. Appropriately, it seems to be about a dream that Jessy had where he was walking through the forest and found himself surrounded by archers. It doesn't make much sense, as I'd imagine the dream didn't make much sense to him. (Do any of your dreams ever make sense? If so, don't become a songwriter, please.) There's sort of an 80's guitar sound which completely changes the mood of the song during the second verse, and by the time they get to the second chorus, they've kind of overwhelmed it with the power chords again, so it's really the beginning and end of this song that I appreciate the most (which seems to be true for most of the tracks on this album).
The Dark Side of Indoor Track Meets
Watch me float by
A bending, arched and sweeping sight
Now play it backwards
And I swear you will see me misty-eyed...
This song's title made me laugh out loud when I read it. What an absurd thing to write a song about! Strangely enough, there's no humor intended here - the story behind this song is just so weird that I don't know how to do it justice. It's definitely an off-kilter and experimental way to end the album, which is not to say that the music is all that bizarre - it's a slowly unfolding, piano-driven ballad in 6/8 time, which feels very similar to "How They Made Cameras", but is a bit more sparse and labyrinthine. The experimental nature of Jessy's songwriting is especially apparent when his strange phrasing leads into the chorus, which consists of a single, drawn-out word: "Far". The way that the band sings it in unison is a demonstration of just how much joy and exuberance can be gleaned from a single word. And then we're given some cryptic advice as the melody twists and turns throughout the bridge: "If there's complications, pull the plug out, pull the plug out". Well, alrighty then! This one becomes Falling Up's longest song on record (pointless remixes notwithstanding), extending beyond the five minute mark as it winds down with a pensive, spacy synthesizer outro that makes me feel like I'm watching a Nova special that aired on PBS in the 80's. (That's not a bad thing at all. I'm in love with the sheer anti-trendiness of it.)
So, in summary, I can't say that this is Falling Up's best album, but it certainly shows that they're willing to stretch their sound and that they have a clever plan for outlasting the nu-metal and rap/rock trends that they were so easily tagged as being part of when they started out. Here's hoping that they continue to plummet to new heights on album #4!
ALBUM WORTH:
A Guide to Marine Life $2
Hotel Aquarium $.50
Goodnight Gravity $1
Captiva $1.50
Helicopters $1.50
Maps $.50
How They Made Cameras $1.50
Good Morning Planetarium $1
Murexa $1.50
Drago or the Dragons $2
Arc to Archtilles $1
The Dark Side of Indoor Track Meets $2
TOTAL: $16
Band Members:
Jessy Ribordy: Vocals, Keyboard
Jeremy Miller: Bass, Keyboard
Josh Shroy: Drums
Adam Taylor: Keyboard (left in 2007)
Micah Sannan: Guitar (left in 2007)
Recommended: Yes
Great Music to Play While: Listening
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