While talk of Y2K damage estimates and Armageddon predictions rule America's consciousness, the 1990s are in a dark corner somewhere weeping. It's been a hard decade.
Struck first by the advent of modern rock and then by its death, '90s youth culture has been subject to so many power chords that next generation babies may learn how to headbang before they learn to crawl.
In this decade, bands have come and gone, some rocking out for just one video and one Woodstock revival and others sticking it out on the 10-year plan. The latter distinction befits Live, a rural Pennsylvania four-piece band whose message-laden rock anthems have branded the airwaves for a majority of the decade as the group established its sound and thrust it upon the masses.
Its latest release, "The Distance to Here," upholds the standard Live formula, offering hummable vocal melodies and flowery lyrics from Ed Kowalczyk's love-will-rule brew. The guitars, barely discernable from those on old Live songs, habitually rush in and rush out as the verse and chorus go. The end product is diet rock music, an album with nothing added to the nuclear quartet, a repetitive, watered down version of 1994's "Throwing Copper."
Along this musical deja-hear, though, there are scattered highlights. The album's first single, "The Dolphin's Cry," though lyrically trite, sounds as good as any song from their 1994 effort. Equipped with a clever video, it begins with Kowalczyk's familiar, Christian reminiscence: "God laid me down into your rose garden of trust."
Slowly crawling in behind, the guitars flood the background during the chorus to shape Kowalczyk's surreal world. The bridge, a respite from the grind of the chorus, undermines the lyrical content of the entire song with cliched lyrics: "Life is like a shooting star / it don't matter who you are." Kowalczyk's attempts to uplift come off as failed sermons. The congregation is not pleased.
"Sparkle" contains pleasant falsetto from Kowalczyk and a well-constructed chorus led by rapid-fire guitar playing from Chad Taylor. An intense ending, fueled by Chad Gracey's tumultuous drum fills, make "Sparkle" one of the more complete songs of the disc.
The chorus of "Feel the Quiet River Rage" sounds remarkably like late Soundgarden. Kowalczyk abandons the upper register briefly, belting emotionally charged melodies in his natural range. Another strong finish ensues as Taylor wails a prolonged solo beneath distorted vocals.
"They stood up for love," a groovier, organ-supported track, seems out of place. Hymn-like background vocals during the chorus and Kowalczyk's incessant repetition of yet another contrived chorus - "We spend all of our lives goin' out of our minds" - add to the track's Sunday Mass quality.
The album closes with "Dance with You," the most soothing moment of "The Distance to Here." Backed by slight drumming and a modest solo, Kowalczyk lays down harmonious vocals. Not surprisingly, more intangible, transparent imagery emerges, capping off the set of fluffy lyrics that riddle the album: "I wanna dance with you / I see a world where people live and die with grace."
Awww, how sweet.
Grade: C+