The Stands: All Years Leaving

Retro is definitely in style. Look at the Scissor Sister aping on Elton John, Jet doing karaoke-grade AC/DC, as well as Interpol and the Killers crafting an imaginative amalgam of indie, glam, and 1980s synth pop. This musical climate bodes well for the U.S. release of the debut album from the Stands, All Years Leaving, a highly touted pop-rock release with strong Liverpudlian roots.

“I’ve Waited So Long”, the album opener, is a very catchy and pleasant single, featuring a chugging acoustic guitar bed reminiscent of Creedence Clearwater Revival. Lead singer Howie Payne’s earnest and easy lament, backed by beautiful Beatles-esque harmonies, of “Here I’ll wait ’till you come around / Through the long, long night alone,” is genuinely touching and sad. Payne’s voice, which sounds like a cross between an unaffected John Lennon and a Highway 61 Revisited-era Bob Dylan played at double speed, can be grating, but has the unmistakable capacity for earnestness and innocence, which fits very well with the Stands’ heartsick laments.

“All Years Leaving” is another impressive track, featuring a shuffling 6/8 rhythm track that could’ve come from a mid-1990s Radiohead b-side, spliced with a dizzying swirl of rhythm guitars obviously culled from the Byrds. What holds this track back however, like much of the album, is the inane writing: “You were born in the light of the first rays of summer / Spawned from the kiss of the last breath of spring / Autumn unfurling its grace through the winter of all years leaving.” Payne may sound like a young Dylan, but sure as hell can’t write like one.

In one regard, I feel bad comparing the Stands to the Beatles. It seems unfair. Just because they happen to hail from Liverpool and play catchy pop music, they are certain to hear this comparison wherever they go. And comparing to the Beatles is simply unfair. But when they blatantly rip off the Beatles’ chords and melodies, as they do of the 1966 psychedelic “Rain” with their bright guitar rollicker “When This River Rolls Over You”, I simply can’t help myself. They seem to be asking for it. Furthermore, Payne makes it that much easier for a listener to connect him to the mid-1960s Dylan when he produces this pale imitation of the bard’s abstract poetry (which even from Bob was sometimes ridiculous): “Haven’t you heard babe / how the speechless are storming the stage / Carrying the cards that you’ve made / And lifting the tone of the room.”

I really don’t want to play the game of Name That Influence, but the Stands trot their heroes before your ears so consistently that it’s hard not too. Whether it’s the Beatles in their songwriting, Dylan in Payne’s voice and lyrics, Neil Young for some of their guitar hooks and melodies, or the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield in their folk-pop mono sound, the Stands sound more like an iPod on shuffle rather than an actual band with something new to contribute. If you threw After the Goldrush, Highway 61 Revisited, and Revolver into a blender, you’d be left with the Stands pureed. Part of All Years Leaving was recorded in Noel Gallagher’s personal studio, as he has been an enthusiastic supporter of the group. For the Stands, however, I’d be concerned when you’re the one band in the universe that actually sounds more like the Beatles than does Oasis!

The one pleasant exception is the hypnotic “It’s Only Everything,” even if it’s harmonica-solo breakdown sounds conspicuously like “Heart of Gold”. Over a looping and cryptic beat, Payne repeats over and over “It’s only everything you know.” While the rest of the album indulges in pop overkill, this track has an attitude and mystery to it. This is one of the few occasions where Payne can muster something like real anguish or pain. Consequently, it’s the only song on the album that I’ve wanted to listen to over and over again (although things do get a little muddled in the bridge).

What’s unfortunate for the Stands, however, is that for the most part, it’s the Beatles/Dylan/Young material that they are best at. When they go in other directions, as on the bluesy soul of “Shine On”, they sound hollow and unconvincing; on the dark country stomp of “Outside Your Door”, they sound like whiny pampered little boys trying to get their hands dirty with a track that would fit better on Bruce Springsteen’s darker folk albums. It’s the bright pop-rock of “Here She Comes Again” that they do best. It’s unfortunate, however, that Lou Reed pretty much wrote this exact song over 40 years ago, and on top of that, he managed to merge melody with attitude, something that, at least on their capable but uninspiring debut, has thus far eluded the Stands.