Hot Hot Heat
Happiness Ltd.
Sire Records
By Justin Porter Stephens
Hot Hot Heat’s debut album, Make Up the Breakdown, was charmingly hyperactive and goofy. Steve Bays and Co. blew through 10 tracks of dance-pop without a hint of self-awareness whenever they were being dorky or overly Canadian. Granted, the infectious synth lines helped, but lyrics like ‘I’m losing at this game / No fair! / Why don’t you seem to care?’ were all part of the fun. Elevator, their fairly unremarkable follow-up, wasn’t a total departure, but it was more tentative both musically and lyrically. The overall feel of the album was somewhat restrained; at times, Bays spastic ramblings were replaced with more cautious lyrics while the band seemed to make a conscious effort to tighten things up. And when they were being fun-lovin’, it came across as manufactured (re: “You Owe Me an IOU”) and trite.
Happiness Ltd. furthers this approach, turning down the tempo even more. Put Breakdown in your stereo and “Naked in the City Again” starts as if the band has been playing for hours and you’ve just walked into their party. Happiness Ltd.’s opener (which is also the title track) is the complete inverse of that. It’s curious that a band which has made all its bacon by getting listeners on the dance floor starts their album with a sprawling, melodic number that doesn’t even really begin to start until its forty-fifth second. Things pick up a little from here, though it’s clear that former guitarist (and Jerry Seinfeld look-alike) Dante DeCaro’s defection to Wolf Parade has hurt the band as the guitars are now significantly less inventive and interesting.
At times, the band seems to hit their stride. The ska-tinged “Harmonicas & Tambourines” has a second wave feel even though it’s as over-produced as the majority of the third wave was and “Good Day to Die” is a nice surprise, given the title and opening string arrangements. These are all overshadowed though by the uninspired likes of “Outta Heart,” “My Best Friend,” and the corny “So So Cold,” which crams just about as many silly figures of speech into three verses as possible. Most critics—including this one—likened the band in its early days to a faster, Japanese Whispers-era version of The Cure. Unfortunately, by using this same logic and band comparison, I would submit to any listener that these three songs sound more like rejected b-sides to Wild Mood Swings than anything else.
Curiously, “5 Times Out of 100”—which was originally released on the band’s 2002 Knock Knock Knock EP—makes an appearance, crammed in between “Let Me In”—the band’s literal and figurative Here’s Where the Strings Come In moment—and the previously mentioned “Harmonicas & Tambourines”. Appropriately, the inclusion and execution of this track serves as a microcosm for the album: a reworked, over-polished and over-thought version of a previous attempt.
|
