Wellwater Conspiracy

“Wellwater Conspiracy” (Third Gear)

Compare to: Stone Temple Pilots, Tone Dogs, Seven Mary Three

An unhappy drummer wants to start playing guitar and lead his washed-out rock star friends back down the winding road toward stardom. The chances of that drummer seeing success are scant, especially if he follows in the footsteps of Pearl Jam drummer Matt Cameron.

In an attempt to pull a “Dave Grohl” by trying to refuel a dying career by playing a different instrument, Cameron has missed out on two crucial concepts in his songs — good lyrics and smooth transitions.

Matt Cameron’s talent lies behind the kit and anyone who hears this album will realize that. He has a knack for writing guitar parts, but fitting those parts together is not working for Cameron. The structure behind them crumbles within seconds of the first few strums of the chords.

Making it in music involves knowing what your gifts are and utilizing those specific talents as best you can. Cameron has not yet lifted the veil from his eyes and realized his talent involves staying as far away from a microphone as possible.

As the listener digs deeper, he or she will find nothing but table scraps; songs that could have been and the remnants of wasted good ideas.

There is one light in the pitch-black tunnel ride. “Rebirth” has a techno-industrial feel to it, and better yet, no lyrics. The song is more suited for an action movie soundtrack than a band full of mainstream has-beens with a still-famous drummer frontman.

After “Rebirth,” the rest of the album follows suit. The songs fit more appropriately as accompaniment to the video cut scene right before you have to thrust the Sword Of Power into Gannon’s muscular torso on “The Legend of Zelda.” Each chorus becomes more dark and sinister as the seconds pass, making the listener want to pick up a controller and kick some video game antagonist butt.

If the producers would have cut the vocals, Wellwater Conspiracy’s latest would make a swell video game score.

Imagine the reputation and the prestige these guys could gain as the band that does video game soundtracks.

— Dan Hopper

The Berlin Project

“Things We Say” (Orange Peel)

Compare to: The Juliana Theory, early Jimmy Eat World, The Alkaline Trio

Instead of buying The Berlin Project’s new album, “Things We Say,” it would be just as easy to use a little imagination and pretend it’s any other emo-rock album on the market today.

Despite the similarities to an already over-saturated market, Orange Peal Record’s latest release by the Berlin Project is almost enjoyable.

There are certainly decent songs on the album. “In Your Head,” the album’s opener, is almost guaranteed to replay itself in your head for about an hour after listening to it.

Another good example of the band’s positive attributes is the title track, “The Things We Say.” In fact, most of the songs deliver, at one point or another, a catchy line or two. Granted, the words, “What ya gonna see/ What ya gonna say/ What you gonna do” are no lyrics inspired by angels, but they’re certainly easy to remember.

Speaking of shallow thoughts, the lyrics for the entire album are stereotypical of emo music. Nine out of the 11 tracks on the disc focus on problems with love. To make this even more standard, all of these songs seem to confront very, very similar situations. It is almost hard to tell where one song ends and the next begins.

Lines like, “But now you’re gone/ And I don’t know what went wrong/ It’s funny how I never even knew you,” are typical of the musings the rest of this album has to offer.

The Berlin Project isn’t doing anything new with the emo-rock genre. Instead, it appears they’ve changed styles to fall in line with the heaps of other new bands in the trendy pile. In fact, until now, the Berlin Project was put into the ska-punk category. That’s just a little hard to swallow.

Overall, “The Things We Say” is not a bad album by any means, but the music and lyrics lack the originality that other vaguely popular emo-rock bands like Anberlin have. The vocals sound good, but they too are very standard for emo-rock.

What is The Berlin Project doing to shape and change modern music? Nothing. Though, if you are an emo-rock fan, you may enjoy this album all the same.

— Campbell DeSousa

Warren Zevon

“The Wind” (Artemis)

Compare to: Bob Dylan,

Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty

It’s hard not to be moved and shaken by “The Wind,” the posthumous soundtrack to Warren Zevon’s life and times. It’s not only a great album, but it speaks volumes about one man’s reflection on death, love and living it up.

Zevon, the shaggy-haired rock pioneer, died Sept. 7 of inoperable lung cancer. Though never reaching the heights of superstardom, he occasionally popped up here and there: His song “Werewolves of London” highlights the best scene in “The Color of Money” and anyone who watches David Letterman has regularly seen the spectacled musician fill in for Paul Shaffer.

His album is a roller coaster of emotions: Songs ranging from sentimentality (“She’s Too Good For Me”) to self-loathing (“Dirty Life and Times”) don’t hold a candle to the poignancy in songs such as “Prison Grove” and most chillingly, “Knocking on Heaven’s Door.”

Unsurprisingly, “The Wind” is no easy album to listen to. While some tracks skim the surface of danceable rock, like “The Rest of the Night” and “Numb as a Statue”, it is never unapparent we’re listening to a dying, and now dead, man.

What’s inspiring is that we’re listening to someone who’s come to terms, through his own wit and sarcasm, with his own death. Never more apparent is “Numb as a Statue,” the best song on the album, where Zevon — voice mockingly shaken — rambles, “Ain’t nothing special/ When the present meets the past/ I’ve always taken care of business/ I’ve paid my first and last.” Zevon even works “Can I get a witness?” in there somewhere.

“Keep Me in Your Heart,” another memorable song, concludes the album. Zevon, never more open than he is here, exits on some powerfully beautiful words: “Sometimes when you’re doing simple things around the house/ Maybe you’ll think of me and smile/ You know I’m tied to you like the buttons on your blouse/ Keep me in your heart for awhile.”

These are messages that will linger for ages. The 11 tracks on “The Wind” are the eulogy of a man who puts a smile on his death and the passing urge to your hand to crank up the volume.

— Ryan Curell

Saves the Day

“In Reverie” (DreamWorks)

Compare to: Green Day, Tripping Daisy, Nerf Herder

It was only a matter of time. Saves the Day’s sound has been noticeably evolving with each new release since they began in the mid— ’90s. It has only now crossed the line from micro to macroevolution.

Just a spoonful of sugar helped each dose of maturity go down, beginning with 1998’s release “Can’t Slow Down.” In 2001, “Stay What You Are” shifted Saves The Day in a much poppier, more melodic direction and earned the affection of thousands.

The band’s good-natured sound had something special that caught the avid music listener’s attention when sifting through the punk pan. Saves The Day was playing in one of the most over-populated genres of the last ten years, yet it retained its distinctness.

Sadly, when fans rushed to buy “In Reverie” last week, their ears were greeted by a very different band.

In a perfect world, musicians would mature into upgraded, yet still recognizable versions of what they set out to be. Unfortunately, Saves The Day has matured into sounding like Weezer.

Don’t be mistaken — “In Reverie” is a solid pop album. It’s sweeter and more sing-songy than any previous release. In fact, “In Reverie” would work wonderfully as an alternative to “The Green Album.”

But it isn’t — it’s supposed to be Saves the Day.

Chris Conley still bounces along in his whiny voice without sounding like he’s whining, but this happy note is overshadowed by the fact that the members of Saves The Day have chosen to copy other success stories rather than continue to write their own.

On the guiltiest of the new tracks, “Anywhere With You,” Saves The Day’s swingy slickness has been swapped for crunchy, distorted guitars and bears a striking resemblance to a certain song called “Hash Pipe.”

“In Reverie” may be at its best on the last track, “Tomorrow Too Late.” Conley begins and ends this passion pie as sweetly as a Beatles ballad, and fills the center with plenty of his fondly remembered emocore energy.

Musical evolution for a band ought to show a matured use of the members’ strong points. Saves The Day was right on track with this philosophy until now. The wayward path they’ve recently taken has led them onto a high road, but one already taken by artists who were similar enough to begin with.

— Andrew Mabe