State Radio – Year of the Crow

In lieu of a better idea, I’m gonna try some free-association regarding State Radio and their most recent full-length, Year Of The Crow. Here’s what’s bursting, for better or worse, out of the old brainpan: RX Bandits. The kind of rock-infused reggae hybrid of a band like Sublime. Michael Franti and Spearhead. Like I said, that’s a pretty mixed pedigree – but it’s apt; Year Of The Crow is a pretty mixed bag itself, an album that absolutely shines in some regards and really drops the ball in others. It’s an album that has a lot going for it but fails, ultimately, to be entirely haunting or anthemic. This is too bad because they strike me as a band that should be capable of that for more than a song or two.

The basics: they’re a three-piece reggae/rock band from Massachusetts. The recording itself is impeccable. Their live show is, from all reports I’ve come across, stunning. They’re obviously tight musicians and talented young men. The dude’s capable of pulling off those eye-watering falsettos that oftentimes seem to go hand in hand with bands of this ilk but personally sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me. Maybe most importantly: their lyrics are pointed, furious, politically confrontational and, wonder of wonders, intelligent. Managing to be totally acerbic while still telling stories is the hallmark of a goddamn good lyricist. Guitarist/vocalist Chad Stokes’ writing falls somewhere between Josh Ritter and Jeffrey Eaton of Modern Life Is War in his ability to show rage and dissatisfaction through tales. He doesn’t inundate you with obviousness – he doesn’t tell, he shows.

Bummer is that I just wish the music was as consistent and captivating as the words.

For example, the first song, Guantanamo, is totally misleading – it’s an odd, lilting alt-rock number with weird-ass time signatures and an ending bridge that sounds as if they’re trying, for about ten seconds, to be a hardcore band. It’s a song that veers far away from the roots-reggae that the rest of Year Of The Crow sticks fairly close to, and I’ve really got no idea why in the hell they chose it as an opening track, or used it at all – it’s not remotely indicative of what’s in store for the listener the rest of the way through. While the other twelve songs stick fairly close to each other in execution, what I found myself wishing for repeatedly was a bit more stiletto and a little less falsetto, know what I mean? There are brief moments (the laid-back, seamless reggae of Barn Storming – complete with horns – or Fight No More, or the terrific, simmering buildup at the end of CIA) where they shine and show their teeth a bit, but as a whole it’s an album that seems to be shedding so much of its energy and potential, joyful viciousness for cute melodies and those distracting, high-pitched vocals that pretty much neuter so much of this band’s ability to make some jaws drop.