vintage

It’s finally here: Sloan’s release of a follow-up to the mammoth 30-track Never Hear the End of It (2006); clocking in at 37 minutes, Parallel Play’s thirteen tracks seem to fly by. More than on previous records, this really showcases Sloan’s four-songwriters modus operandi, and the result is an improbable stew of sounds that somehow still works. I suspect the brilliant production has something to do with it.

Guitarist Patrick Pentland leads the record off with “Believe in Me”, a breezy rocker with stunningly unremarkable lyrics. Though Pentland has never really been known for his earth-shattering wordplay, he usually hits the nail on the head with a solid song, and this is the track’s redeeming factor. It’s fun and singalong-able, but not that enduring; for now, I’ll certainly enjoy belting along with the chorus when no one’s listening. The organ is an enjoyable addition.

Pentland’s other tracks are slightly disappointing. “Burn For It” and “The Other Side,” both under three minutes, have their moments of glory but fail to really hit the mark - the kind of songs you don’t mind listening to but forget about when they’re over. The chorus of “Burn For It” - I wanna walk through fire, walk through the fire and burn for it - is catchy enough, though. I can’t say that I dislike his work on this album, but his songs don’t grab me. It is not Pentland’s worst showing by any means, but he is capable of quite a lot more than he shows us here.

Jay Ferguson (Rickenbacker, denim jacket) provides his usual dose of charming pop with his three offerings, all below the three-minute mark. The second track, “Cheap Champagne,” features some beautifully sly vocal harmony and guitarless verse sections. The shouty “ba ba da”s that lead it off are really too jarring, but they sound much better when they return later in the song, and the rest of the tune with its perfect feel more than makes up for that.

Ferguson’s others, “Witch’s Wand” and “If I Could Change Your Mind,” are no less delectable. The latter is reminiscent of ’60s Motown/Phil Spector, a sure way to my heart. “Witch’s Wand,” a nice little swingy tune, features a chorus so catchy it is maddening. Jay’s been on quite a roll the last few records, and this is no exception; sometimes his tunes can come across a bit formulaic, though his current fixation on making them super-short helps alleviate that, but he’s good at throwing in some handclaps and piano ornaments to get you back to feelin’ the love.

Sarcastic bassist Chris Murphy has, thankfully, improved upon his lyrics since Never Hear the End of It. While we are still unfortunately subjected to many verses about how his life is going lately, at least it isn’t “People Think They Know Me”. Here he weighs in with three pretty solid tunes, the best of which is probably “Living the Dream” - some more of “this is my life!”, but disguised in a happy little song with a cute riff and some delicious placement of D7s.

“I’m Not A Kid Anymore” features good solid power-chording, but is not the most remarkable of songs. The chorus is probably the most exciting feature, but overall it stands around the same place as “Believe In Me” (fun, but not all that enduring). “All I Am Is All You’re Not” is surprisingly understated, giving it a cool, playing-hard-to-get vibe. I’d been listening to All Things Must Pass the day before the record came out, and the lyrics constantly remind me of Harrison’s “I’d Have You Anytime”; lyrical allusions aside, though, it’s a good song. Nice to have you back, Chris.

And finally Andrew Scott (drums/guitar), who rambles all over the map on this album. “Emergency 911″ has a bit of a Stooges/Sex Pistols feel, wherein he yells about bullies and ambulances and firetrucks. The looseness and anger comes off well, but I wish he had left off the Henry Rollins ending part. The rest is a good shouty rant of a time.

“Down in the Basement” is a happy, rolling Bob Dylan blues number, featuring lots of good keys; Scott pulls off the blatant Dylan ripoff well. It’s definitely my favourite of Scott’s tracks on the record. “The Dogs” is slightly ponderous, but grows on you, and even features an Animal Farm reference (Four legs good and two legs bad keep chasing each other ’round my head). Brownie points.

Scott also provides the album’s closer, “Too Many,” a somewhat confusing reggae-influenced loose thing with tons of organ. It is a strange choice for a final track, but then none of the tracks stand out as the perfect closer. It has some great harmony and little nuances, and he shows us quite often that he’s not afraid to play with boundaries and different sounds at every opportunity.

Scott and Ferguson definitely carry this record to great heights; Murphy, though, is finally staging a comeback from the lyrical Someone to not watch The View with rock bottom. Pentland is coasting a little, but manages to redeem himself with excellent instrumentation and some undeniably good hooks. Parallel Play is a solid 9th record, and I can see it sitting in my CD player for a while - or it would, if Yep Roc would bother actually mailing it to me. Well, you can’t win ‘em all.

Listen: Cheap Champagne or Living the Dream