I'm continually interested in seeing what bands who have spent years tooling around in the Christian underground come up with when their talent is finally recognized and they get signed to major labels. On the surface, The Juliana Theory appears to be such a band. After releasing two genre-bending albums (including the stellar Emotion Is Dead) and one EP for Tooth & Nail Records, the band was picked up by mainstream heavyweight Epic Records. On the surface, they would seem to be ready to bask in the same sort of mainstream popularity that has shined upon Sixpence None the Richer and P.O.D. But look a little closer, and you'll see that something is different here. While the aforementioned bands who whine about being given the "Christian band" tag still have individual members who profess to be Christians, the members of The Juliana Theory have maintained for a while that their personal beliefs are a private matter.

Now, if that ruffles your feathers in any way, you'd do well to stop reading. I'm not one to outright reject an artist just because they don't proclaim outright that their religious convictions line up with mine. In fact, I often find it interesting to try and figure out what a band like TJT is trying to say through their sometimes cryptic and even cynical lyrics. Despite wanting to exist outside of the CCM arena, though, the band hasn't gone without a reasonable amount of backlash from Christian "fans" with certain expectations, which resulted in the excellent song "To the Tune of 5,000 Screaming Children", among a few other songs addressing the dark side of being put on a pedestal, some of which help to flesh out the darker side of their new record, Love.

Hey wait, this moody and cynical band chose Love as the title for their mainstream debut? Yeah, that baffled me too. In fact, it was rather off-putting to read preliminary reviews of the album, which were bountiful since the original release date (November 2002) got pushed back, that wrote the album off as nothing more than a collection of generic rock songs with generic lyrics talking about how love was a good thing. That didn't sound like The Juliana Theory I knew. Nonetheless, it's pretty much a foregone conclusion that a band would have to make their sound more "accessible" to be palatable to a wider audience. As a matter of fact, the band's musical evolution has been quite similar to that of Jimmy Eat World. Still, I was hoping for something a little more adventurous and less methodical than Jimmy Eat World's last album, even if I did enjoy that one.

So February 4 has come and gone, and on the same day that relatively disappointing albums from Jars of Clay and Caedmon's Call were unleashed in the CCM marketplace, Love surfaced at last, and knowing that it wouldn't be available in Christian bookstores, I ran out and snagged it at Best Buy. Am I disappointed? Thankfully, no. Sure, I can see a few spots where the lyrics have suffered and the band has fallen into the old self-important trap of trying to be profound by being simple – in this case, offering generic platitudes about love, and why love is a good thing and we all need to have it in our lives. Well, duh. However, the music is not nearly as generic as some critics made it out to be. It is true that the band rarely deviates from using their triple-guitar attack and Brett Detar's mildly snotty sneer to drive these songs, scaling back some of the electronic embellishments and out-of-nowhere pop melodies that made the last record such a fun ride. What makes these new songs work, despite their occasional sonic sameness, is that many of them have that added energy that makes them demand attention. It's like the raisins in your oatmeal or the cookie dough in your vanilla ice cream – it takes something that might otherwise be plain and makes it so much more enjoyable. As for the lyrics – the majority of these songs still have enough intriguing lines, and pent-up frustration that needs venting, to keep the whole thing from just turning to a dreary mush.

Bring It Low
I'll show you everything inside, will you open up your mind?
'Cause I'm more like you than you may ever know...
While the title is inexplicable (wouldn't be the first time for this band), I can safely say that the opening track wastes no time in cranking up the rock factor, which is predictable for your usual mainstream rock disc, but honestly takes some getting used to after the more subtle opening tracks on the last album. Brett jumps in with a vocal attack similar to past tunes like "Understand the Dream Is Over", authoritatively spewing out an indictment of fakeness, which is perfectly summed up in the chorus, "We're playing a game, we've got to let it go, nobody's winning this way, we're gonna lose it all!" Short and sweet, the song makes its point and then ducks out of the way before even hitting the three-minute mark.

Do You Believe Me?
If this is how it's gotta be, I will never speak freely...
The record's first single was well-chosen – a tune that starts off gentle and builds on some the Juliana Theory's poppier elements, building on a driving melody, a compelling piano line that joins the opening guitar riff, some catchy "whoa-oa"s in the background, all colliding in a memorable chorus, and boom! Before you know it, you're rocking out and singing at the top of your lungs. The song seems to be addressed at an individual who likes to talk but won't really listen to what Brett has to say. This person appears to be indicting Brett, or perhaps the band as a whole, for not doing things in a particular way, and Brett's response is an ultimatum – "You could kill me, or you could make this very easy." (Perhaps this refers to the judgmental Christians who have condemned the band for not having a spiritual agenda, and how the tongue can be used to either build them up or tear them down.) The song seems to keep getting fiercer as it hurtles towards its final chorus, and then very suddenly, the whole thing shuts down and track switches in such a slick manner that you might not even notice.

Shell of a Man
I won't nurture and feed this hate
It's empty and doesn't change a thing...
The tempo from the last track is carried here by a lighter rhythm that seems to intentionally shift around where its main beat is... this can be disorienting at first when Brett starts singing, because you're just not sure where the emphasis is supposed to be (for you musicians, that would be where each measure of 4/4 actually begins). This approach certainly makes the song stand out, even if it's hard to get your head around it. Brett seems to be addressing his current audience after the plea given in the last track, and here he's going against the expected attitude of "They hurt me, so now I'm going to hurt them" by saying that he sees no point in nursing the pain and trying to get sympathy out of it. Interestingly, the chorus seems to contradict these resolutions to let bygones be bygones as he pines, "Why can't I let go? I'm only the shell of a man." On and on he goes, wrestling with himself over the shifting beat until the song finally ends in a long and lovely piano postlude. After the sweet transition between tracks 2 and 3, I have to admit that the band had me fooled here – I kept looking at the display on my CD player at a few points when I expected that the piano part might end, wondering if it was going to flow smoothly into the next track. Instead, it just slows down and the last note hangs in the air. Still an excellent way to end a song.

Repeating, Repeating
I'm burning the candle at both ends while holding it underwater...
The growl of guitars in the background warns of another onslaught – it's not heavy rock by any means, but the band still has a bit of frustration left to unleash. Here Brett seems to be lamenting a pedestrian lifestyle that leaves him feeling like he's rapidly growing old – he's caught in a routine and he can't slow down long enough to assess what's going on. All he knows is that it's gonna burn him out. Perhaps this refers to the hectic lifestyle of being a band on the road, or perhaps it's a criticism of the 9-5 plus overtime work schedule most of us have to deal with, but either way, it's easy to relate. The song would be a fairly typical modern rock number if not for the blast of drums and guitars in the middle as Brett wails over and over, "Will this end?" That question becomes a resolution at the end of the song – "This will end."

Congratulations
You blame it all on a mutiny
When everybody around you always seems so free...
Drummer Josh Walters pounds out a catchy percussive groove to get this track started – for the most part I find this one similar to the last track, except perhaps a bit more cynical. Brett's vocals are certainly harsher on the chorus, as he seems to be mocking a person who acts like they've got it all together but whose world is crumbling on the inside. It's like he's saying, "You made your bed, now you can sleep in it." I get the feeling that a lot of these songs are actually conversations he's had with himself, as if he's purposefully being hard on himself as some sort of an impetus to get out of whatever funk he's in. Anyway, this one has another powerful bridge where Brett wails, "There is nothing left to lose!", even temporarily lapsing into a scream as if to pay homage to the old days when he was a part of the hardcore band Zao. Just for fun, they bring that part back again at the end of the song. My only real complaint about this song (and the last one as well) is a minor one – I feel like the ending would have had more punch if it ended instantly on the last drum beat instead of letting the electric guitars hang on and fade out. It just sounds too traditional to end two songs in a row that way.

Jewel to Sparkle
Smiling wide with slender frame
You're immovable in recollection...
Interestingly, the band backs off at this point to remind us that they have a poppier, more sensitive side. I can hear a touch of 80's rock in the backbeat here – but then, it's possible I've been listening to too much U2 lately. Anyway, this song makes itself out to be a love song – perhaps directed to a girl that Brett finds irresistible. Overall, it's not as catchy as "We're at the Top of the World", but then I suspect most listeners will be glad that the chorus isn't as inane as that song's "Sha la la la". Though I really like the lines "You're a jewel to sparkle around my neck/The fragrant scent of morning I cannot forget", I have to admit that the song makes this person sound a little more like a possession. Probably not intentional, but it bugs me a little sometimes.

White Days
Stop, but don't hit the brakes, they don't do a thing
We've made it to nowhere with no time to spare
No one said life was fair...
One of the mellowest songs on the record, this one proves that the band (especially the drummer) can adapt well to a light, moody setting. This is definitely one of those "road songs", likely told from the point of view of a tour bus that's seen one too many Pennsylvania snowstorms. Brett seems to be questioning the overall usefulness of spending night after night in strange towns, living that "rock star" lifestyle, and for just one moment, as he's describing the hazardous road conditions, you almost expect his fear of a fatal accident to turn into a prayer... but no such luck. Still a definite standout, though.

The Hardest Things
You could be spiteful for what's been done to you
I'm sure you feel it, you know I feel it too...
This song hasn't grown on me yet. The piano intro just seems attached to the song for no good reason, much like how "The Piano Song" felt out of place on the Music for Another Room EP. Once the band speeds up and gets into the proper song, it just doesn't seem to go anywhere meaningful. Brett is basically giving a friend a little cheer-up session, which I suppose is the purpose of much of the album, but it actually comes off like one of those vague "positive hits" that everyone hates, thanks to lines like "It's never simple deciding what should be" and the uninformative chorus, "Sometimes the hardest things in life are the things we have to do/Even when we feel it's right, I never want to hurt you." These lines would have a lot more power if backed by a more specific story – but then, specificity has never been The Juliana Theory's strong point.

DTM
Hold it out, your candle in the dark
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, they say...
There goes another one of those puzzling song titles... for some reason I keep mixing my acronyms and calling this one "DTR". Anyway, this one's a fairly strong rock number, oozing persistence and defiance in the face of adversity. It may not seem to say a whole lot, though I have to wonder if the "candle if the dark" is a veiled spiritual reference, or anything meant to be linked to the candle burning at both ends in "Repeating, Repeating". I guess I'll have to keep wondering. One thing that strikes me as odd about this song is in the middle of the song when Brett's line "I won't give up again" is echoing in the background, and part of it gets clipped, so all you can hear is "pagain, pagain..." It drives me nuts because I want to be able to hear the "u" in "up", or not be able to hear the "p". (I'm awfully picky today, aren't I?)

Trance
You suck the light out of a room with merely a glance
You are the slave of a clone of a petrified fool on a throne...
I'd have expected a downtempo, mesmerizing song from the title, something on the order of "We're Nothing Without You" or "You Always Say Goodnight, Goodnight". Instead, The Juliana Theory gives us a little guitar delay effect for a very U2-like opening, before breaking into another full-throttle arena rock number – this reminds me very much of "Dream Away" on Pax217's last album. Any hostility that was hinted at previously gets unleashed mercilessly here – which is a little hard to take from a band who's supposed to be here to tell us about love. Perhaps that's just irony, but at first this song feels like the same harsh intrusion that "Ticks & Leeches" was on Tool's latest disc... but what the hey, it rocks! You have to love the band's insistence on being excessive here – when the song finally reaches its conclusion, they drag it out as long as they can with one more guitar chord, and then another, and then a drum fill, and then... my reaction to this was literally, "For crying out loud!", but I was saying it with a bemused smile on my face.

In Conversation
Can we just agree?
'Cause when you talk to me I feel as if I can't control it...
Just so we can catch our breath, the band starts this one off with a cool acoustic intro, making us believe this is gonna be a calm ballad about a girl or something silly like that. It's actually about a struggle to be honest, to effectively get across what's on your mind during a difficult conversation and not be misunderstood. This one had to grow on me because it seemed a little monotonous at first, as if it were the requisite acoustic ballad that every modern rock act must have on their CD these days, and then Brett has to go and unload platitudes on us during the bridge: "These situations almost daily have a way of making people understand that all of us are one/But isolation and division will be our destruction if we can't communicate." Listen carefully to the next line, "So as I contradict myself and forget all I've said, I am free." Gosh, how's that for consistency? It's inexplicable, and yet all too human, because we all have these convictions that are easy to talk about but difficult to follow, especially when dealing with conflict. From there, the music grows in intensity as Brett's wail once again lapses into a scream and back, before settling back down into its former mood to close out the song.

Into the Dark
I'd give you my hand if you'd reach out and grab it
Let's walk away from this hell...
I'll admit, I was a bit skeptical when I heard that the band had re-recorded one of the standout tracks from Emotion Is Dead for inclusion on this album. While I'm glad that they didn't just simply tack an old recording on here that wouldn't have fit in with their new style, I don't know that their attempt to intensify the old song worked. It's less electronically-driven, that's for sure, but the thicker guitars and drum fills and all that seem to detract from the story behind the song, which appears to be the tale of a lost son returning home to his parents. It's nice that new fans will get to hear one of the band's classics, since their old albums might become difficult to dig up, but I'm rather underwhelmed by this version as a whole. I guess I should get used to this practice when I like a band and they cross over – apparently Switchfoot has a similar remake on their upcoming album.

As It Stands
There's a private hell for anyone who lives only to love themselves...
Here's where the requisite ballad get slipped onto the record – I think it actually works quite well as the penultimate track. Short and solemn, at just over two minutes, this song is another lament, this time dealing with people that Brett has pushed away. It serves as a blanket apology to those people, an epiphany of sorts for Brett as he realizes that his pursuit of fame and self-sufficiency has left him a very lonely man. Thankfully, this track doesn't feel like everyone other rock band's acoustic track – the colder atmosphere and the tone of Brett's voice remind me, for some reason, of the type of ballad a more old-school rock at like Metallica might have come up with. (Not that I know much about Metallica, but for some reason that name is coming to mind.)

Everything
Forget the feeling, forget all of your reasons
Life is love or a lack thereof...
The band goes "retro" at the beginning of this track, finally giving longtime fans the payoff with a flowing programmed intro reminiscent of Joy Electric. While lyrically, this song should have never seen the light of day, musically speaking it's one of TJT's finest. Which of course presents me with a massive dilemma regarding my feelings for it overall. It's just really hard to swallow a vague song that makes love sound like a product being sold. I mean, I'm a hopeless romantic and all, don't think this is just years of repressed Valentine's Day cynicism coming to the surface here, but am I supposed to be inspired by the repetition of the line "Love is a reason for living, a reason for trying, a reason for life"? I'm all for being motivational, but the general notion of "love" ain't gonna do it. Once again, I need specifics. It doesn't kill my ability to enjoy the swaying 3/4 rhythm or the spectacular coda where the band lets the fireworks fly – I want so badly to feel Brett's emotion as he cries over and over, "Love is everything", but most of what I'm feeling is embarassment on his behalf. (If I told him this was killing me, would he stop?)

Now think about that statement - love is everything. It slides by because it's so cliché, but is there a reason for it? Looking at the crazy jumble that the band used for a cover image, I've noticed that within the word "LOVE" (which is written in a psychedelic, Austin Powers-style font), you can see a mushroom cloud from some sort of explosion. Inside, similar designs are repeated, replacing the explosion with a TV screen, across which the words "BUY NOW!" can be made out, and even more bizarre, a canister of pills opened and spilled out, with a tiny cross visible among them. What kind of statements are being made here? Whatever it is, it comes across as being some sort of urgent social commentary even though the lyrics of the band's songs are nowhere near that pointed. It's probably way too easy to read into these things, and it's quite possible that the band has put them there just to see what we read into them. After all, if love is everything, then that encompasses war and commercialism and drugs. This is going to fly in the face of the belief that God is love, and therefore how could love be everything when some things are evil? Or are those things inherently evil?

More questions that may never be answered. For what it's worth, The Juliana Theory has given the world an intriguing major label debut that's sure to spark a lot more theories as to what exactly they're talking about. I'm going to give Love a high recommended to modern rock fans looking for albums with more bite and less filler, and music lovers in general who don't read into things as much as I do.

ALBUM WORTH:
Bring It Low $1.50
Do You Believe Me? $2
Shell of a Man $2
Repeating, Repeating $1.50
Congratulations $1
Jewel to Sparkle $1.50
White Days $2
The Hardest Things -$.50
DTM $1
Trance $1.50
In Conversation $2
Into the Dark $1.50
As It Stands $1.50
Everything $1.50
TOTAL: $20

Band Members:
Brett Detar: Lead vocals, lead and rhythm guitars, acoustic guitars, programming
Chad Alan: Electric bass, backing vocals, percussion
Joshua Fielder: Lead and rhythm guitars, acoustic guitars, backing vocals
Joshua Kosker: Lead and rhythm guitars, acoustic guitars, backing vocals, additional percussion
Josh Walters: Drums, percussion, backing vocals

(Crazy, these guys have three Joshes!)

Website: http://www.thejulianatheory.com

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Driving