Have you ever really wanted to hate a band, but found that you couldn't? Maybe that's just one of those weird experiences that people like me have because we find it hard to reconcile our first impressions of music with what we hear when we listen more deeply, whereas most folks decide rather quickly whether they like or dislike something, and stick with that decision. But I've known people who have become fans of a particular band in spite of themselves. Usually it has to do with a less-than-favorable first impression that tricks you into thinking that mediocrity, or gimmicks, or flat-out boredom is all that a band has to offer. Then later on, you find a song of theirs caught in your head even though you would rather be listening to something "cooler". And suddenly you're afraid of who will find out that you're secretly enjoying the work of a band that you publicly made some very harsh statements against.

How's this for a harsh statement: "These guys are like Mae without balls." That's what I declared to some friends on a message board after my first exposure to Copeland. Honestly, such a statement is rather unlike me, because I'm into a lot of sensitive-guy bands who write forlorn love songs ripped from the pages of their journals and whatnot - it's rather sexist to imply that being open about your feelings is somehow a non-masculine thing to do, or that having less of a rock-oriented sound makes you a bunch of wusses. I mean, let's consider who I was comparing them to. Mae can turn out a solid, massively hooky, riff-heavy rocker, but they have their fair share of piano-driven songs to woo your prospective girlfriend with, too. They just happened to be the band that I was impatiently waiting to see when I had to stand in a crowded lot and endure a live set from the likes of Copeland. Both bands were very piano-heavy (as are the more recent works of Relient K and Cool Hand Luke, two other bands I had come to see at the very same festival), so I thought, hey, easy comparison. Maybe Copeland was having an off day or something, but they sure sounded wimpy and boring to me, so I just dismissed them as inoffensive mid-tempo fare for the mellowest of the emo kids to blog to.

Then I found out that Copeland would be opening for Switchfoot on their much-anticipated Spring 2007 tour, and I figured that if I had to endure another set of their mid-tempo mush, I might as well come prepared, having familiarized myself with their latest album, just to see if recognizing the songs would make the performance more enjoyable. So I did my best to absorb their newest album, and to be honest, it didn't change my opinion of the sluggish live show all that much. The truth is that these guys aren't the type to get large concert venues amped up. But in the process of trying to learn the songs for the show, I discovered that in the studio, Copeland really knows how to work some magic. Ironically, it's when they're trying their best to be upbeat and catchy that they falter. When they let a song open up and breathe without the pretense of it being single material, they can come up with some lovely, artfully constructed musical poetry that persuades the hardest of critical hearts (including yours truly) to do a girlish little swoon.

Copeland's latest album is entitled Eat, Sleep, Repeat. That title's just begging for critics to make the obvious jokes, but since I find it to be a strangely addictive piece of work, I can't really indulge in the name-calling shenanigans. I will say that it is an odd choice for a title, given that the album doesn't seem to deal with the repetitive nature of everyday life so much as the inherent risks in allowing yourself to love and be loved. This album just screams "fragility" - or at least, it would if such a thing could be screamed - it's there in the construction of the cinematic, but delicate instrumentals, the nervous guitar playing on the more "rock"-oriented songs, and the earnest, couldn't-be-aggressive-if-they-tried vocals of Aaron Marsh. They're one of the many "rock" ensembles these days performing a much mellower, piano-oriented style - this genre has become a bit of a cliché in the wake of Coldplay's popularity (and if you say "Copeland" too fast it sure sounds like "Coldplay"), but it can sound quite lovely when mixed with the right atmospherics (think Radiohead and Sigur Ros, but not at all creepy) and when a band understands that just hammering out the same piano chords in an earnest, measured fashion isn't enough to guarantee a convincing tug on the old heartstrings. What Copeland lacks in power, they very nearly make up for in texture and lyrical phrasing - it's a lesson that Coldplay could honestly stand to learn from lesser-known bands such as this one.

All of the above should probably clue you in that while there is some wonderful beauty on this record, it takes time to discover it. At times the album feels incomplete, as a short, experimental interlude-type track leads into a carefully unfolding "upbeat" song, which is followed by a minimal ballad with a gripping, gooey chocolate center, and so forth. Several good songs can be found here, but I'm not sure how well it all holds together as an "album". I can only really point out one "bad" song on Eat, Sleep, Repeat - there might be a few other disappointing ones, but only because they start well and don't quite live up to their potential. There are more detours than direct routes on this album, and I think that keeps it interesting even though my first reaction was that they should just to the point and say it with a little more "oomph". It doesn't reach the grandiose heights that some slow-burn bands do, and quite honestly, you could take all of my favorite tracks from this album and line them up in a live set and I'd probably still get impatient with it. They're one of those bands that, to me, sounds better with a recording studio at their disposal, and that's because the texture is at least as important as the words in most of these songs, and what words they came up with are generally well-written ones. It's not "catchy" in the traditional sense - and yet, I can't seem to go without giving it another listen for very long. Weird how that works!

Where's My Head
Where I hung my coat, it's where I left my head
So you'd be wise to doubt every word I ever said
Cause I just woke to eat some chocolate and go straight back
I'll go straight back to bed...
This two-minute intro track is a trance-like, vibey little piece with bells, clattering drums, and not much else. It has a cool but slightly detached feel, like waking up from a nap and not quite knowing what time of day it is or whether you should eat something to get your blood sugar back to normal. It's strangely beautifully, and expertly played for such a minimal piece, but just when I'm getting into the stumbling groove and Aaron's confused cries of "Where's my head?", it suddenly dissipates into the ether.

Eat, Sleep, Repeat
It occurred to me at once that love gets everything it asks for
Like a young girl picking flowers in the lawn
She gets every kiss and tear, she gets every smile and fear
But still she never finds the last of them is gone...
OK, after that brief interruption in a good night's sleep, it's now morning and we're awakening more gradually and peacefully to the synthetic sound of backwards piano playing. The bells and tricky drum beats from the first track seem to play a role as this song gets going, but it unfolds into much more of a full-bodied piece. The verse rhythm and the effortlessly floating melody are the main hook to this song - the chorus lyrics are memorable, but the band curiously plays it more relaxed with the rhythm there. The sentiments expressed here speak volumes of love given tirelessly by someone who only barely knows what they're doing: "Is it any surprise that you feel so overrun, when all this time you had no one to tell you how to love?" The echoing background vocals repeating the words "didn't know love" are pretty sweet, too. And the electric guitar, while not loud or abrasive, seems very unsettled due to the jumpy tremolo style in which it's played. This one's an excellent mix of rhythm, ambience, and a memorable melody, so it's probably the best of the "upbeat" tracks on the album.

Control Freak
And when I fell asleep it plagued my dreams
And 30 bits of glass that become my teeth
They will break and each and every time I fall asleep
It's freaking me out...
This would be the "single" from this album, and I honestly think it's one of those songs that isn't bad, but when you first hear it, it kind of has a "So what?" effect. The gentle bounce of the drums and piano, the style of guitar playing, and the overall rhythm are a little too straightforward for the tense subject matter. It falls into that category I mentioned earlier, of trying to be upbeat but not really doing enough of it to be memorable. Unsurprisingly, the lyrics are about someone else who is "freaking me out" due to their inability to let someone else call the shots or even live their own life as they see fit. The song improves vastly during its bridge, which hits something like a climax with some nice falsetto from Aaron, the touch of dramatic strings, and more of the "nervous guitar" style from the previous song. For the most part, it's a song that you probably wouldn't change the station on if you heard it on the radio, but if you heard it too much you'd be begging for the band to release a different single just to hear something from them with a little more variance.

Careful Now
I threw everything out that doesn't make sense
To find a thousand more things that don't make sense...
The first song on the album to not be dependent on piano is a bit of a misstep, though not an egregious one. This band just isn't as interesting when they're only using guitar, drums, and bass, because they are in no way convincing as a traditional rock act. Here they once again fall into the pattern of "interesting verse, comparatively pedestrian chorus" - I love the syncopation and the rhythmic flow of the lyrics in the verses, as Aaron discusses the inability to truly feel the way he thinks he should feel in a given situation, and how that's rooted in a fear of getting hurt - he'd rather keep his distance and stay safe. This kind of resolves to a too-obvious, and frankly quite boring chorus, where he just repeats, "Careful now, you'll hurt yourself. Careful now, you'll hurt someone else." The overall touch is too light for this to really work as a rock song, despite the more distorted guitar tones. The calm, synthesized flute-like sound in the bridge (I don't know how to identify it, but I've called it the "Zelda sound" in the past) just feels dropped in from a much mellower and more beautiful song, and it feels once again like they're trying to build to crescendo so that the final chorus will seem to have more impact, but it just plain doesn't. I enjoy what's being said here and there are elements of the song that tickle my ears, but they were definitely too "careful" with this one.

Love Affair
In a flash her heart is slain, you have to ask in all this pain
Was your heart too soft? Was your love in vain?
Was your kiss too weak? Were your eyes too tired?
And much too young to be in love?
The first true ballad on the record is so delicate, so desperately begging to be loved and understood, that it manages to be a genuine wellspring of emotion in ways that the preceding up-tempo songs couldn't really accomplish. I'm a sucker for sensitive little piano waltzes like this one, so while it may feel slightly rigid and bare-bones at first, give this one time to develop and I think you'll fall in love with it. At the moment it's my favorite track on the album, with its poetically descriptive verses trying to get at the reason why someone whom the protagonist loved dearly didn't seem to respond to it, and its soft-spoken chorus, which pleads, "Just let me run where I want to run, just let me love who I want". There's so much hurt spilling over here, but it's earnest, not bitter. As the electric guitar begins to take over during the bridge, it too offers up a soft plea for grace, and just when the tension's building to a breaking point, the rhythm suddenly shifts from 6/8 to a whimsical 9/8, changing the mood from somber breakup to whimsical first dance, as a muted trumpet and a few other horns show up to guide a reconciled couple across the dance floor. "There are no rules for this love", Aaron declares hopefully during this brilliant coda section, "Just keep your head and don't give up". Too bad that the horns and strings really need to be there to make this one work - I'm guessing that's why it didn't make an appearance in their live set.

I'm Safer on an Airplane
The day came in, the day went out
And not a bit of peace was spoken about
And it feels like a suicidal world
And it feels like hell...
The best song on the album is followed by the worst, and it's ironic that they're the only two songs on the album to break out of a 4/4 time signature. This one makes the mistake of being way too synthetic, with its electronic, snapping rhythm and electric keyboard notes never really getting off the ground. It sounds like Joy Electric in a particularly downbeat mood. The lyrics actually have something interesting to say - they compare the likelihood of getting into a plane crash or being hit by a car with the likelihood of being hurt when one falls in love. Despite our commonplace fears of flying and warnings to children not to play in the street, we know that the risk inherent to relationships is much greater - love almost always guarantees going through some amount of pain. This song is over in less than three minutes and has no climax to it, so once it drags its feet through the first chorus, you're ready for it to start sounding more "live band" or build up in some other way, and it never does. It's the album's only true dud track.

By My Side
Don't look back to the spot where I fell
Don't you look back and don't you ever tell
Cause we know pride it doesn't heal all that well...
The soft tap of drums gets this rather disjointed album up and running again - we're still languishing in mid-tempo land, which threatens to make this song not stand out much, but given some patience, it tends to sneak up on you and beg not to be ignored. It's one of the more guitar-driven tracks, and Aaron's tone of voice is refreshingly optimistic despite the timid undertones - he's saying now that he's willing to give himself a chance to open up and love if the person he loves can guarantee that she'll be by his side and not run off at the first sign that he's still rather new and clumsy at this. Bryan Laurenson injects a surprisingly effective guitar solo into the bridge - it's a simple affair that keeps bouncing back and forth between two notes in shifting keys, but it's well-played and adds a little zip to the song.

Cover What You Can
And if you get caught in the fire
Just think about what made your heart cry out
For any fire at all...
Another interlude-like track appears here - it's the shortest track on the album at two minutes even, and given that most of the first half is instrumental, it's a stretch to call this one a "song" in the usual sense of the word. Not that I mind them playing with structure or offering up little poetic fragments, but three seemingly half-finished songs on an album with only 11 tracks is kind of pushing this band's luck. It's got one of those beats that strolls along unassumingly while an uneasy guitar melody and some neat, zig-zagging strings give it a little more body. The brief snippets of lyrics deal with rain and fire, things we beg for during times of drought or cold, but then find ourselves trying to avoid being drenched or burned by when they appear.

The Last Time He Saw Dorie
He's in love with tragedy, in love with tragedy
She was a wreck, but he loved her
She was a wreck, but so was he...
One of the album's most experimental tracks (I told you there were more of these curious little detours than the standard songs that keep the album moving along, didn't I?) turns out to be one of its most beautiful pieces. It opens with a quiet, stately piano suite made up of a melody played both backwards and forwards at the same time, evoking a sort of "memory rewind" going back to some sort of a bittersweet moment in a man's life, when he last spoke to a woman he really cared for. The music evokes images of a warm fire burning in a cozy, but lonely cabin on a snowy, winter's day, and when the vocals finally come in, they too appear to be a mixture of normal, real-time singing and a backmasked echo of the same sounds. It's tough to describe, but it's eerie and disarmingly lovely at the same time. Aaron only sings the first of two verses in this song; vocalist Anna Becker takes the second half as sort of a response, as if she's this "Dorie" repeating the lessons he learned from her about how to persevere in loving someone even when doing so breaks your heart. Parting words from an ex-girlfriend who honestly wished the guy well, but just couldn't see it working out between them? Perhaps. All I know is that it's quite sonically captivating, especially with the little orchestral flourish near the end - even the strings appear to have a little bit of that "backwards blur" going on. This is like what Radiohead might sound like if they made music for your girlfriend.

I'm a Sucker for a Kind Word
In a house without a back door
I was looking for a fire escape
And I've been ripping up the floorboards
Just trying to get away from this sleeplessness...
Oy vey, the song titles are getting increasingly emo as the album draws to a close. That's OK; this song's a pretty good examination of self-consciousness and the need for affirmation, ambling along at a medium pace but eventually turning out to be the other success story among the "more normal" songs on this disc. Laurenson's delicate touch is a big part of what makes this song work; the slight grumble of the guitar riff which leads from the chorus into the verse, which can't seem to settle on whether the right note is one half-step up or down from the one it previously tried, and in general, the two guitars in play bring a good balance of delicate and distorted tones. The question of how much reassurance one needs from another person to have a sense of self-worth is in play here - the guy's in love and floating on a cloud when the girl's around and actively wanting to do things with him, and yet when she goes way he immediately fears that he did or said something wrong and she won't want to come back. This inability to deal with his own self-criticism makes his house feel like a prison when he's alone, and he's realizing how he uses other people as kind of an emergency exit. I love the way that the word "Sleeplessness" soars during the chorus - it's one of the album's most instantly singable moments.

When You Thought You'd Never Stand Out
In younger days
I do my schoolwork while the neighbors play
But stare into space with no feeling to convey
With no look on my face...
The final song (the one with the longest and most contrived emo title) turns out to be a strong contender for the album's standout track. Aaron's piano melody is both tense and rhythmically tricky - it takes a few listens to realize that most of the notes are between the invisible beats - it becomes more apparent when the solo spotlight goes down and the rest of the band comes in (complete with more playful strings) during the second verse. At that point the wandering melody seems to have more of a road map to guide it, and yet the framework for it was there all along - it's brilliantly played. This one's all about memories of a shy childhood, a life of wanting to be noticed by an adult who will pat you on the head and say, "Good job", or maybe by that cute girl in your algebra class. That seems to be contrasted with adulthood, in which this shy guy has somehow "made it", and now he's the center of attention, on stage, leading a band in front of a huge crowd of people who probably came to see some other band, and he's totally not ready for it. Anna Becker returns to sing a counter-melody as the song builds to a very busy crescendo, weaving her words in between his: "Didn't I find you when I knew you were hiding out? Didn't I see you when you thought you'd never stand out?" This is juxtaposed with his repeated musing, "I don't know what everyone was looking at, don't know what everyone was laughing at, don't know what everyone was staring at... but I think, I think that it's me." These two parts, sung in tandem, overlap with a third, simply repeating, "They're gonna come to light tonight" - it's a brilliant mish-mash that places the girl as the face in the crowd, the longtime friend who knew him back when and is proud of him for facing his stage fright even though she knows he's quaking in his boots as he sings these songs to a skeptical crowd. Eventually all has faded but the last few echoes of those repeating vocal bits, and I'm amazed at how the song has morphed from what it sounded like it would develop into at the beginning.

It's funny, the blend of timidity and quiet confidence that keeps the tension thick throughout this fragile little album. I kind of played the role of the bully at first, picking on the scrawny, shy little kid like some sort of weird psychological revenge for my own experience in junior high and high school. Then I stopped to listen, and thought, "You know, this shy kid could really make something out of his life if people like me would stop giving him critical noogies and wedgies every day during recess." There are still moments where I think they're playing the "melancholy card" a bit too much, but then some of my favorite albums are extremely melancholy (see Much Afraid), so I have to give Copeland the benefit of the doubt on this one. They do need to work on making their "rock songs" more full-bodied, or perhaps just ditch that side of their sound altogether and be a band who simply excels in composing crystalline emo-pop songs. They just got signed to a major label not long after releasing this album, so I hope that doesn't make them try too hard to come up with easygoing but less captivating singles by default. We'll see how it goes - hopefully they'll grow into their newfound sound a little more and the next album won't just be a Repeat.

ALBUM WORTH:
Where's My Head $1
Eat, Sleep, Repeat $1.50
Control Freak $1
Careful Now $.50
Love Affair $1.50
I'm Safer on an Airplane $0
By My Side $1
Cover What You Can $.50
The Last Time He Saw Dorie $1.50
I'm a Sucker for a Kind Word $1.50
When You Thought You'd Never Stand Out $1.50
TOTAL: $11.50

Band Members:
Aaron Marsh: Lead vocals, guitar, piano, Mellotron, organ
Bryan Laurenson: Guitar
James Likeness: Bass, backing vocals
Jon Bucklew: Drums

Websites:
http://www.thecopelandsite.com
http://www.myspace.com/copeland

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Romancing