Yellowcard – Ocean Avenue Acoustic

I hate to admit this, but at the end of high school I went through a very real Yellowcard phase.  Come to think of it, it was a friend’s chronic playing of Ocean Avenue in his car that first hooked me.  I was initially skeptical, and would poke fun at their pop tendencies by “ironically” singing along to the chorus of the title track.  What I didn’t anticipate was how much these songs would grow on me.  Ten years later, I can concede that Ocean Avenue was a high point in Yellowcard’s career, easily embodying all the essentials of a respectable mainstream pop-punk success.

To mark the anniversary of their breakout album the quartet has dug deep to give fans a full acoustic re-creation of their seminal hit.  It would be easy to dismiss this as a label driven cash-in taking full advantage of the nostalgia of plenty of mid twenty-somethings.  But in a world where anniversary re-issues are plagued with a simple accompanying disc of marginally rougher demo versions (I’m looking at you Fat Wreck Chords) or a couple of minor unreleased tracks, Ocean Avenue Acoustic is mostly intriguing and tugs at those nostalgic heartstrings in all the right ways.

The heart and soul of Yellowcard is present every step of the way with the band hitting every note with the same level of youthful energy as the first time around.  Feeding the liveliness, front man Ryan Key sounds frozen in time, feeling as if he’s doing more than just going through the motions.  Fans will notice that he has toned down his expressions to match the mellower backdrop, but such action feeds the sense of Ocean Avenue Acoustic as a reflective document rather than as an inferior one.  In other words, Key doesn’t steadily dilute the songs by playing down his performance the same way Streetlight Manifesto’s Toh Kay is somewhat guilty of in his recent acoustic accompany album Hand That Thieves (did I just reference an album that doesn’t exist?). 

The two tracks standing out most are the title track, but more notably the emotional centerpiece “Empty Apartment.”  “Ocean Avenue” simply captures everything that makes the original such an easy listen.  If you like the original you’ll love this acoustic take – enough said.  It’s “Empty Apartment” though that documents Yellowcard’s growth by making a heartfelt song even more powerful.  Whether Key simply can’t hit those same screechy high notes still or if the change was purely stylistic, the decision to lower his voice several octaves and really strip the band down to bare essentials (you’ll find no percussion here) hits the mark.  The song is somewhat of an anomaly in the track list, resulting in a strong early album head turner. 

The only significant issue hampering Ocean Avenue Acoustic is ironically the handling of Yellowcard’s most distinctive instrument.  Violinist Sean Mackin is the one piece that sounds like he’s holding back, not quite delivering the same “punch” as in songs traditionally relying on it.  For instance, opener “Way Away” plays comparably to its source material, so a less pronounced string section feels somewhat confused and out of place.  It’s not the biggest issue, and it doesn’t happen on every track, but it’s clear that the band struggled the most with capturing the violin’s original’s feisty spirit.

If Ocean Avenue Acoustic proves one argument, it’s that Yellowcard has some fairly timeless source material in its catalogue.  Ten years later and I have to concede, the commercial success of Ocean Avenuewas no fluke, and Yellowcard’s longevity has been no accident.  Ocean Avenue Acoustic succeeds on more than just base level nostalgia, making it a no brainer for anyone that enjoyed Ocean Avenue the first time around.