It's pretty much impossible to review an album by The Polyphonic Spree without first answering the question of whether the group is just an overblown gimmick or a legitimate rock band, so let's get the basics out of the way first. The Polyphonic Spree is a self-described "choral rock" group originally from Texas, comprised of 20-some-odd members, many of whom play a plethora of instruments (horns, strings, flutes, etc.), with the rest offering massive backing vocals. They're a "collective" sort of a approach to making music, at least in principle - an experiment to see what happens if you bring so many players into the fold that the identity of any single person doesn't eclipse the identity of the group as a whole. They also dress in matching outfits (formerly the kind of robes that made them resemble an actual choir; they've now been traded in for more of a low-key wardrobe that makes them look a litte less cult-like), and are quite possibly one of the most exuberantly happy rock bands in existence. Stubborn optimism is enough to get you a lot of weird looks and bad reviews in this business, so once word gets out that the very thing which makes you unique (in this case, the massive size of the group's membership) appears to just be a gimmick, and not something that is really necessary to your music, it's career suicide.

So is it really a gimmick? I kind of thought so at first. My introduction to the band was through the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, one of my all-time favorites, which featured a memorably quirky music video for the group's breakout track "Light and Day". I loved the song and the joyous outpouring of instrumental goodness that punctuated its peppy chorus of "Follow the day and reach for the sun!", but for whatever reason, I never checked out a full album of theirs until their 2007 release, The Fragile Army. I guess I thought it would just be all sunshine and rainbows and cute puppy dogs - a little much for me even if that sort of enthusiasm can have great effect in a single song, simply because it sticks out like a sore thumb. A recommendation from a fellow audiphile made me curious, though, describing The Fragile Army as a "Solid, solid rock album", and not basing their like or dislike of the album on its emotional qualities, so I figured there must be some serious musical muscle regardless of the mood, and I took the plunge.

And I'll tell you, I hated it at first. And that's not because of the mood that was set or the instruments that were played or anything having to do with the band's sound or their lyrics. It was because of the voice of one man named Tim DeLaughter, who can seriously grate on the nerves if you're not used to him. He's the band leader who came up with this whole crazy scheme, and the primary songwriter, and as a result, despite having an array of vocalists to pick from, he's the guy you're going to hear yelping and shouting and excitedly emoting his way through the album. (If you've heard some of The Flaming Lips' older stuff, then this will be very familiar territory for you.) First time through, I thought, "There's some talent here, but no way I'll make it through this album ever again." But voices that sounded like nails on a chalkboard at first have grown on me before (this is the year that I got into Bjork, after all), so after I gave it a few weeks, The Fragile Army began to click on all cylinders with me. It's got a rather theatrical approach, despite basically being a collection of 11 loosely connected, larger-than-life pop songs. Having 10 or 15 vocalists and a small orchestra doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot more than having 3 or 4 voices in a regular old rock band when everybody's singing and playing at once, but there's a lot of space afforded for some of the different players to shine and for different musical moods to come to the forefront. There are angular alt-rock sensibilities combining with glitchy electronic tinkering and operatic vocals, there are seemingly innocuous pop songs that undergo sudden shifts in tempo and intensity - heck, there are even a few moments when listening to this thing reminds of musical theater, which is an art form I normally can't get into, but I guess it works for me when there's not a bunch of talking in between.

Really, this isn't that off the beaten path for me - I like Anathallo, who uses a lot of the same instruments but takes more of an indie/art-rock approach to their performances. Danielson is another band that comes to mind here - a veritable cornucopia of members playing their parts, sometimes colliding with one another in a ramshackle, barely-planned sort of fashion. (Though I don't find DeLaughter's voice to be nearly as irritating as every single vocalist in Danielson. Sorry, I admire what they do, but it ain't my thing.) The Spree is comparatively much more poppy. They go through their moody phases, and aren't afraid to (at least obliquely) address wars and politics and aging and other such issues. Actually, the lyrics might be one other weak spot for the band - I often feel inspired or comforted by what they're talking about, but it's really the music selling the feeling about half the time - DeLaughter tends to take a very big-picture, "human condition" sort of approach that basically boils down to the idea that we're all one big happy family, so let's dwell on the good stuff. It feels damn good to sing along to The Spree's contagious convictions, but profound, this ain't.

Still, if you've got the two strikes of a vocalist who seriously has to grow on you and lyrics that flirt with insipidness on several occasions, and you're still getting frequent spins from me, you must be doing something right. Indeed, The Fragile Army is rapidly inching its way further up into my Top 10 for the year as it starts to wind down. It's an impressive effort from a band that I once thought was a novelty that I could enjoy for a few minutes but never take all that seriously.

Section 21 (Together We're Heavy)
OK, so naming your first track after the title track from your previous album when it's really just a 30-second fade-in to your first actual song doesn't appear to be a good idea. For all I know, it might be a clever sonic manipulation of some element of that song, but it seems like one of those things that doesn't really need to be a separate track. Moving right along...

Section 22 (Running Away)
I'm projecting and reflecting desire
for you to come into my life
Parades of this day will outshine them all
for me and you to get along...
As the full band kicks in, we get a few spastic shouts from Tim DeLaughter while the guitars get revved up and the flutes trill excitedly - fortunately, most of the vocalists are singing in unison throughout the song, so it sort of dilutes the effect for the time being. This song's about as happy as any single-worthy follow-up to "Light and Day" can be expected to be, with drums crashing and horns blurting and everyone singing out about how the company of an unspecified person makes them feel as proud and free as "running away with the wind in my face". Seriously, with lyrics like, "I'm so excited and delighted today, because You decided to be in my life", they run the risk of sounding like a bad Christian rock band, but it's the lively percussion, the blurting horns, and the overall energy of the performance that makes it a fun opener.

Section 23 (Get Up and Go)
Waking up with a bad throat, take it day by day
Well, you might like to think you're in denial...
This song takes more of an angular approach with its unexpected chord progression, and its main riff which trades off between the string section and the electric guitar. DeLaughter's vocal performance during the verses has this weird affectation to it - kind of like the wacky "accent" to it that the guy from the B-52's would use during his speak-singing parts. It gives him more of a "manic preacher" tone, but that's tempered by the song taking more of a subversive, not-as-blatantly-happy approach, with ironic lyrics like "You might like to think you're in denial." (If a person thinks they're in denial, then how can they actually be in denial if they're aware that they are, unless they're in denial about not being in denial?) The ragtag choir seems to be almost angry at the end when they cry out, "Why do you make me cold inside, you soldier?", and it's anyone's guess what the "soldier" analogy means here, but we'll explore that a little more in the next track.

Section 24 (The Fragile Army)
Design a black note
You type on your keyboard
You swallow the very words you called your own...
This particular section (the band enumerates all of their songs as "sections", which kind of reminds me of Nine Inch Nails giving each CD a "Halo" number) seems to split into sub-sections - it's a mini-suite which starts off as a swaying piano tune in 6/8 time, switching to common time after the first verse and chorus, in a transition that definitely sounds like something out of a stage play. DeLaughter is being heavily sarcastic know, with the rest of the choir chiming on to help him finish off every other line - the song's got an almost taunting quality to it, with its marching beat and its sassy trumpets. (The sound of a typewriter in the background when he sings "You type on your keyboard" is a nice touch, too.) DeLaughter seems to be accusing somebody in an important position of making a deal with the devil, trying to talk them out of their overzealousness by singing, "It's time for you to lose your excitement!" repeatedly. As the song moves back into its original rhythm, the band reprises their cryptic lament, "We left him on the floor." I'm not sure what any of this means - it strongly hints at being some sort of a veiled war protest. I just like the overall cryptic nature of it - taking a break from the unbridled happiness makes the happy songs easier to swallow.

Section 25 (Younger Yesterday)
We're laying down in bed
The days go by in my head
Yeah I fake it if I can't sleep
And then together we can get some relief...
This song is more easygoing, musically speaking, though the simple beat and the gushing horns, strings and piano can only do so much to mask the frustration being expressed by Tim as he expresses the difficulty of growing older and no longer being able to take for granted the things that used to come easily. Optimism and pessimism seem to clash here - he tries to encourage his fellow aging humans that "You're beautiful, you've always wondered, now we know, together we're alright", but later admits that "every days" a fight. The tempo actually slows down later on, and the song somehow gets more intense despite this, with Tim's vocals becoming more tortured, and the whole performance turning into a bit of a psychedelic maelstrom in which the piano and the backing vocals are spinning about deliriously, and we're repeatedly reminded that "The world wants love" as everything builds towards a sudden, slamming conclusion. (I noticed another cute use of sound effects here - when Tim sings "We're marching left to right", you can actually hear the sound of stomping feet panning from one speaker to the other.)

Section 26 (We Crawl)
I'm stuck in a Monday
It's telling me someday we're gonna be fine
I know it's all moving
Can't tell if I'm losing the love of my life...
The sense of life getting more difficult as we age carries on into this lush, pretty piano ballad - I love the "pastoral" intro with the playful strings and flutes, and it becomes a grander production as the harp comes swooping in, bringing us into the chorus. There's a sense of unity, of fighting together, in this simple song, but also a tinge of sadness as Tim worries about "losing the love of my life". To be honest, these lyrics kind of throw every cliche in the book at us as he carries on about trying hard and sticking together and our love being alive, et cetera et cetera. This is definitely a tune that you enjoy for the majestic musical performance, and just try your best to tune out the silly lyrics.

Section 27 (Mental Cabaret)
In front of a firebrick gate
Well, you might think it's fine
When everybody stands in space
And they sigh...
OK, so I've found the first half of this record to be enjoyable enough, with some misgivings about the lyrics, but trust me when I say that the back half is where the group really starts firing on all cylinders. The string of unusually solid tunes begins with this manic, highly danceable tune, which has a creepy, foreboding sort of mood to it, with its wobbly horns, wacky synths, and loopy strings - it's one of those tunes that reminds me of a Tim Burton movie. The band makes every effort to make sure that it's a blast to listen to, with the jaunty piano playing, the handclaps, and all that, and it's easy to get caught up in singing along without even realizing that the lyrics don't make a whole heck of a lot of sense. "You will find, and you will outshine, and you will try, and yooooooouuuuu... whoa!" How about completing the thought, guys? Oh well, helluva fun song in any case.

Section 28 (Guaranteed Nightlife)
Remember the night, you said you had a vision
Of all of these wonderful feelings gone by
I know that it's right, I know you're on a mission
But all of this good-guy wonder goes on and on and on and on...
I like to refer to this one as the "I Think I Can" song, due to how the chorus (which the group cheerily chimes in with immediately) seems to be chugging uphill and the verses speed things up, effortlessly careening back down the other side. This one exemplifies the group's "hippy choir" motif, and as a result it's one of the most infectious tracks on the album, despite the tempo changes which would normally get on my nerves in the hands of a group that had less of a keen sense of composition. This one seems to be about the risk of the romance and passion running dry in a long-term relationship - it seems to contrast the sexy allure of going out amidst the bright lights and trying to pick up someone new with the comfort of knowing you'll have that some trusted person to wake up beside day after day. It's the good guy fighting with the commitment-phobe who doesn't want life to lose its sense of adventure. There are lots of great instrumental touches in this one - the little bits of violin sticking out during the verses, the chugging piano and drums that speed things up as the band makes its way over the hump into each verse, and the ghostly operatic wail that one of the female singers injects here and there.

Section 29 (Light to Follow)
Love is a mixed-up smile
You never know which way to go, we should never forget
Everyone feels their luck is going bad
Sometimes the rest is left unsaid...
I love everything about this track. The floating, otherworldly synth intro and the techno-trash rhythm at the beginning of the song gives way to a furious chorus with unpredictable guitars that practically seem to be climbing the walls in enraged excitement remind me of some sort of unholy Radiohead tribute that mixes together the best of OK Computer and Kid A. A solid bass groove, a heavenly "opera" sort of interlude, and all sorts of colorful intrusions from various instruments up the ante, though, and make this the kind of song that only The Polyphonic Spree could pull off. Their declaration that "Everyone needs their own light they can follow" certainly comes dangerously close to a reiteration of "Follow the day and reach for the sun", but there's plenty to chew on here - what does it mean when they say "We feel so alive going backwards"? Or how about "Sometimes the best is left unsaid?" The lyrics are as mixed-up as the love they describe, which I think gives the song an intriguing edge over some of their more straightforward happy tunes.

Section 30 (Watch Us Explode [Justify])
She dreams of lights and going places
She's feeling brave she's gotta make it home
The rolling skies her circling wonder
Her swinging dress dances all alone...
KA-BLAM! This song comes crashing in as the previous track's muted outro fades away, and it's certainly one of the band's most delirious and urgent performances, thanks to the crashing drums and a ridiculously fast piano riff. As the title might lead you to expect, this song is an explosion - not one of rage, though, but rather, an explosion of color. I can't tell if the line, "So justify all your phases" is an admonishment or an encouragement - one the one hand, the song seems to revel in the glory of making mistakes and learning from them, but the whole "watch us explode" thing makes me wonder if the sense of reckless abandon is meant to sound like it might result in somebody getting hurt. In any case, I love how that last word "explode" leads to a chain reaction that keeps flaring up, as bits and pieces of the song come flying out of the speakers again and again in one of most absurdly cool outros I've ever heard.

Section 31 (Overblow Your Nest)
The summer clouds, they made us proud
The clock extends, we live without
The ringing slumber forgotten years
The angels sing when the end is near...
Hey, Section 31! Isn't that like a Black Ops division of Starfleet or something? Anyway, this track is one of only two ballads on the album, and it's definitely the more emotionally tortured of the two. It is at once one of the record's emotionally defining moments, and one of its weakest, from a performance standpoint. Things get very quiet and eerie, and Tim's wounded voice is left alone with only fragmented synths and horns floating in the ether behind him, leaving behind the "group" mentality for a bit to explore a moment of deep personal pain. He sounds very hopeless, like some tragedy's about to come swooping in and blow away everything he holds dear - "Overblow your nest" is kind an awkward and overwrought phrase to describe this, but whatever, it's his analogy and I'm sure it holds a lot of meaning for him. But his stark vocals are a bit much here - even when the rest of the group joins him during the impassioned chorus, you can still tell that he's overdoing it just a tad. Aside from that, it's a hauntingly beautiful song that knows exactly when the right moment is to "kick in" and just sound so huge that you can't ignore it. It's the weakest track in the record's back half, but despite that, it has its beautiful moments that are just sad to tug at the heartstrings.

Section 32 (The Championship)
The brains were fixed on politics
A role that's never been won
We called them out, we said "Let's shout!
Someday the world will be one!"
Way to make a comeback! A confident guitar riff leads us into a confident intro with more crazy drum rolls, and bells ringing out, celebrating the effort of a runner who nearly popped out but is now making his final sprint toward the finish line. And that's exactly what this song does - it sprints forward with reckless abandon, urging us that "Someday the world will be one" and "All in good time, we will come around!" They're in full-on "happy mode" here, and I think it's been earned after making their way through the more conflicted songs that preceded this one - the full band is being used as captivating as possible, with the female vocalists taking over for the jubilant chorus, their final shout of "All in good time!" leading us to a seeming conclusion where a lone piano plays a lovely outro... and then, the drummer chimes in, hitting the cymbals and building up anticipation for a superb victory lap. "All in good time, we'll come around, raise our voice, make another sound!", they happily sound, stretching the song out past the five-minute mark, and fading out on their most infectiously catchy refrain. For me it's the defining moment, the most solid track on the album. It's so rare to hear an album that actually gets stronger towards the end - many have great conclusions, but leave most of the best stuff right up front so that you have to get through a wasteland of mediocre tunes just to reach the finale. But these guys pulled out all the stops several times before this point, and by the time this album concludes, it just leaves me feeling so incredibly stoked that I don't know what to do with myself!

So yeah, excitability is a definite side effect of this album that I should warn you about. It's bound to be difficult to resist for all but the most sullen and dejected of listeners, so approach with caution and don't let this be the last thing you hear before going to bed or anything like that. (It'll definitely work as the first thing you listen to when getting up, unless you're Oscar the Grouch in the morning, in which case your CD player/alarm clock probably won't survive the beating it's about to get from your baseball bat.) I like it when a rock record can get me pumped up with optimism instead of rage, but also not treat me like I'm a total idiot who can't acknowledge that life has its downer moments, too. I'm pretty happy with how this group managed to combine infectious emotions with a solid collaboration between so many talented musicians, and while it may be true that there are artists like Sufjan Stevens out there who can pull off a similar effect while playing all of the instruments themselves, I figure, hey, having 20-some members to fill in all of the instrumental roles means that this sort of thing will be a lot easier to translate in a live setting.

Anyway, I'll give this one a hearty recommendation to anyone who can stick it out through the acquired-taste vocals and the occasional stoopid lyric or two.

ALBUM WORTH:
Together We're Heavy $0
Running Away $1
Get Up and Go $1.50
The Fragile Army $1.50
Younger Yesterday $1
We Crawl $1
Mental Cabaret $1.50
Guaranteed Nightlife $1.50
Light to Follow $2
Watch Us Explode (Justify) $2
Overblow Your Nest $1
The Championship $2
TOTAL: $16

Band Members:
Tim DeLaughter: Lead vocals, guitars, keys, percussion
Ryan Fitzgerald: Electric & acoustic guitars
Annie Clark: Electric guitars, additional vocals
Brian Wakeland: Drums, percussion
Mark Pirro: Bass
Mike Garson: Piano
Evan Hisey: Organ, synthesizers, samples, additional vocals
Audrey Easley: Flute, piccolo, EWI (electronic wind instrument), whistles
Rick Nelson: Violin, upright bass
Risky Rasura: Classical harp
Daniel Hart: Viola
Sara Donaldson: Cello
Louis Schwadron: French Horn
Mike St. Clair: Trombone
Logan Keese: Trumpet, coronet
Matt Bricker: Trumpet
Mike Dillon: Vibraphone, additional percussion
Philip Karnats: Guitar
Mark Youally: Tap dancing
Jennifer Jobe-Penn, Julie Doyle, Jennie Kelley, Kelly Repka, Jessica Jordan, Apostala Wilson, Jenny Kirtland: Additional vocals

PHEW.

Websites:
http://www.thepolyphonicspree.com
http://www.thefragilearmy.com

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Waking up