Kills And Thrills – Liars

Over the past ten years the gap between indie and emo has been narrowing.  The best example is probably Connor Oburst’s hugely successful Bright Eyes project.  His earlier work practically bled heartbreak from every note, and fixated mascara and eye shadow abusing teen girls everywhere.  But his latest work, Cassadaga, now finds audience in a wide range of twenty-somethings who likely identify with the indie movement above all else.  Now, the subject of this review, The Motel Life’s Retreat, doesn’t sound anything like Bright Eyes, but its distinct combination of pitchy vocals, angst driven lyrics, and delicate instrumental melodies couldn’t be a snugger fit.

However, this combination is commonplace today, and what might make for a curious conversation piece really only makes for a formulaic listen; as are my feelings towards Retreat.

The band is made up of an ambitious five musicians who play quite admirably as a whole, but seem stuck in a middle ground without any real flare.  In other words, all their pianos, strings, and vocal harmonies fit quite well together, but fail at leaving a lasting impact. Once they get started, tracks like “Wooden Hands” and “Falling Asleep” exist in mid-tempo limbo, defining themselves with safe vocals and choruses that attempt to get under your skin, but feel diluted by their emo slant.  Sometimes they feel like Taking Back Sunday, others they sound like Minus The Bear – but whatever the case, they never truly define whatThe Motel Life is in itself.

Not surprisingly, The Motel Life’s most memorable moments occur when committing to either influence enough to benefit from its individual draw. That might sound a little backwards on paper, but it’s more of a case of doing one thing well rather than two things mediocre.   The album’s first truly remarkable instance surfaces on “God Loves.”  The track is a short, sub-two minute piece that slows the album down to a crawl, and finds the band theologically interpreting worldly events.  The lead vocals sound hopeful and lyrics skeptical – a combination achieving a sense of internal conflict quite suitable for the accompanying instrumental minimalism.

Unfortunately, a few bright moments can’t elevate the remainder of Retreat’s middle of the road path.  Now I don’t want this review to make The Motel Life sound unlistenable – from the perspective of musicianship, it’s actually quite solid – but at the same time it never reaches out and connects with its listeners.  I have no doubt some will find something to like here, but personally Retreat represents a lackluster “emo meets indie” movement still dependent on others for its own voice.