
Not unlike randomly seeing someone spread jell-o pudding all over his or her arms and legs in public with delight, this record has thrown me off track. When the world shows a flash of bizarre, eccentric flare, I am often moved to at least recognize that such an act allows me to remember that day above others. Even in the face of confusion or distaste, I enjoy moments such as these. Two Thousand is by no means as bizarre as the example above, but it does yield similarities. Just as that pudding felt cool and refreshing on the skin of that random person, some of the musical and production decisions here are – as refreshing as they are – at times out of place.
The songs structures on Two Thousand are far from experimental. And even with the presence of these juicy moments I speak of, at least half of the album is what I like to call MOR or “middle of the road” (nothing extraordinary on either side of the spectrum; not leaving much of an impression at all). The MOR half is a peculiar mix composed of formulaic, mid-tempo tunes that are melodically and spatially reminiscent of Beatles-esq British pop, while reeking of an American indie quality (or rather the lack there of) and laden with questionable drumming. Part of the issue with these songs is that not only does the sound get old, their chord structures and musical vocabulary are quite redundant and frankly under engaging. “Knee High” is a good example of this, presenting a reasonable static arrangement with a decent chord progression, only to be weighted down by the drumming issue. Between what essentially is an undesirable, repetitive gesture and booming, overactive compression, the drums effectively squash all chances of achieving any kind of interesting dynamics in the song (an essential element when song structures are simple). “Also Ran” and “Keep it Amazed” fall into the same category and leave me little to do but solidify my feelings about their formula and move on.
The other half, generally speaking, is more sensitive: the songs breathe with life not found when they are dominated by the over compressed drums a boomin’. On “England Just Will Not Let You Recover,” there is a light, homogenous instrumental counterpoint that is unique to the album and is one of the finer moments on the record without a doubt. Even in the presence of the overly loud drums, “Cloche” and “Basement D.C.” are saved by some crafty guitar work, good melodic ideas, and some interesting production. On the closer “Go On,” the group even manage to pull off some dissonance on an album that couldn’t be more consonant. On this number, it works nicely and grows into something more familiar before ending on a positive note.
Through and through, Two Thousand is littered with positive and negative anomalies. To some this might not matter one lick, as others may only like one half or the other. I am willing to say it is pop music worth remembrance on some level, whichever way you hear this record. Whether that is entirely a good or a bad thing or somewhere in between, I will leave to you.
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John Somers