Tunes -- sometimes you just gotta have them. When you and your buds are together with a couple of tall cold ones, the Big Tymers CD you keep in your car or the Al Green disc you save for "special occasions" just aren't going to cut it. If you find yourself in situations in which "dude, let's hear some tunes" is an oft-made request, "Breach," the new effort from The Wallflowers, will be as reassuring as a designated driver. Heck, you probably have the CD already.
Save the Bob Dylan comparisons. The Wallflowers belong to a slightly less verbose, more classic-rock mold occupied by the likes of Tom Petty, "Tunnel Of Love"-era Springsteen and, on his better days, John Mellencamp. And like the majority of the albums by its influences, "Breach" has no wasted space. Jakob Dylan and his cast of instrument-occupiers stick to the verse-anthemic chorus template as if their lives depended on it.
For obvious reasons, Jakob Dylan is the breadwinner in this group. Just look at his prominence on the album cover if you still have doubt. You always got the feeling he wanted to trump his looks and pedigree with lyrical insight. But now that their moment has passed, I gotta ask, what in God's name were "One Headlight" and "The Difference" about anyway? Fortunately, Lil' Dylan has learned that a song's verse actually can correlate with its chorus.
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When Dylan digs into actual topics, it's like an early Christmas for anyone who wanted to know what his father-son picnics were really like. In "Hand Me Down" Dylan croons, "You feel good and look like you should / But you'll never make us proud ... / Living proof that evolution is through / We're stuck with you."
"Breach" is a surprisingly dour but potent affair lyrically, as in the venomous kiss-off in "Witness," in which Dylan dishes out, "For the party girl / No one even knows you're there / Happy birthday / No one cares."
The Wallflowers always make sure, however, that any of their songs will sound delicious between a B.T.O. and bread sandwich on classic rock radio. Despite an awkward reference to Sam Cooke, "Sleepwalker" rocks triumphantly and still leaves a creepy residue with Dylan's weary "God only knows that I tried" finale. Equally irresistible is "I've Been Delivered," which I swear has seven choruses, and "Hand Me Down" is too catchy to qualify as therapy.
Despite the Wallflowers' skill, you can't help but feel a little cheated when the darker moments are airbrushed out by hooks galore in the name of radio-readiness. Dylan tries to "make room for new regrets" on "Some Flowers Bloom Dead." But did it have to be over a sped-up version of "Life Is A Highway"? A lot of moments on "Breach" are of the "where else did I hear that?" persuasion, but you won't know it offhand, and that separates good rock from Lenny Kravitz-style larceny. The Wallflowers do the rock thing well, so enjoy them while they're at it. While Gina works the diner all day, working for a man, no less, on the downtrodden-worker plod "Up From Under," you'll wish they kept the drums in.
It's been three years since "Bringing Down The Horse," and it's obvious The Wallflowers didn't spend it learning new songwriting strategies. You get the feeling maybe they are a little scared to make something other than the time-honored "tune." Sometimes the wheel doesn't need reinvention, but an occasional 20-inch chrome rim helps. "Breach" rocks all right, but it's a little empty without the risk that the rock 'n' roll should demand.
Grade: B
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