Banquets – Self Titled

New Jersey’s Banquets made quite a splash a couple years back with their debut full length, Top Button, Bottom Shelf.  The album worked on a good number of levels in part due to a healthy blend of accessibility and roughneck delivery that gave way to some trending Gaslight Anthem comparisons.  Most notable however, was the seemingly universal praise the band received from the broad level base of the punk scene – from the Polar Bear Club purists to the Hot Rod Circuit conventionalists.  The band’s success was rooted in balancing both audiences – an admirable feat in a scene seemingly never afraid to play favourites.  

Such success begs the question though, how does a band follow-up such a fence straddling performance?  Simple rehash would be the easy route, but then they’d risk losing their spark.  The rougher road would mean favouring one of the two camps in hope that the payoff would still sustain their secondary audience.  Since every band strives for relevance, the answer is obvious – the only question remains, who’s basket to throw most of their eggs in?  Within the few lines of their Self-Titled full length their choice is clear. 

Musically and vocally, Banquets is the band’s cleanest work to date.  In this regard, these songs have more in common with Funeral For A Friend or The Academy Is… than The Loved Ones or The Gaslight Anthem.  Opener “Little Shadow” sneaks in an early blues-punk beat in honor of the latter, quietly forgetting it in favour of the former once a highflying chorus assumes mid-track dominance.  Travis Omilian’s vocals have never sounded so squeaky clean.  The transformation is akin to the level of vocal polishing that Make Do And Mend underwent upon signing with Rise Records, the difference here being that Omilian seldom dips back to his coarser self.  Now the closest elements of grain take the form of stadium aspiring gang-led choruses in tracks like “Call It A Comeback.”  As a result, the songs grow bigger and catchier, but fade in connection and personalization – a perhaps unintended consequence of their grand aspirations.

An unintended side effect of all this shimmer though is how it largely masks otherwise intelligible lyrics.  For instance, songs like “March 19th” reveal pivotal points in personal relationships, carrying on the band’s clear predisposition for exploring the precarious steps of adolescence.  In light of this strength, it’s a shame that the lyrics play second fiddle to the musical centerpiece.  Chorus and verse ultimately play into one another so successfully that it takes an unnatural concentration to drag one’s attention back to the words from each encompassing melody.  As such, the album develops a whole lot of identity without presenting as much personality.

High points like “Starts and Stops” and “Bums In The Breeze” however, leave me very optimistic and understanding of the acclaim beaming from the community.  “Starts and Stops” couples a savage tempo with one of the album’s few memorable taglines, “there’s no modern saints;” a whole slew of distinct guitar work interjects at exactly the right times, keeping the overarching message vivid throughout the song.  On the other side, “Bums In the Breeze” flutters in on more graceful wings, defining its two minutes as the lowest key of the bunch.  Both tracks resolve the bulk my minor misgivings, and should ideally serve as a blueprint for future output.

While Banquets haven’t quite worked their way into my listening habits the way they have for others, their Self-Titled effort is just as easy to enjoy on a more casual basis.  Those preferring a rougher vocal style will likely scrutinize the subtle changes that the New Jersey quartet has undergone.  That being said, the melodies are so tight that initial skeptics might just be convinced to turn a blind eye.  So while Banquets is certainly a knockout for those who wholly embrace the glossier side of punk rock, there’s enough depth and to justify a look by more than just the diehards.