Music influenced by 9/11 has a pathetic history. First Bruce Springsteen's weeper The Rising did a lot for the upkeep of the blue-collar hero's mansion, but nothing for the artistic conversation about the defining horror of a generation. Country-rock icon Neil Young's reactionary, Neanderthal "Let's Roll" certainly didn't bode well for Canadians taking on the topic. In the wake of those rock-royalty failures, surely relative newcomers the Stills have no business singing about such serious stuff.
And yet: With Logic Will Break Your Heart, a bunch of over-hyped, ridiculously affected (did you hear they stare at the ground in concert a la the early 1990s British shoegazers?) Quebec natives have made the most important album yet about the post-9/11 American zeitgeist. The Stills simply don't deserve to be this good. But they are, and I definitely won't be the last to tell you so, thanks to the Vice Records hype machine. The Stills have already toured with fellow scenesters the Streets, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and indie darlings Interpol -- but the New York-via-Montreal rockers are the best of the bunch.
Logic, their first full-length, succeeds where others have committed only artistically repugnant acts of musical grave robbery because it humanizes the incomprehensible by grounding it in the classic rock 'n' roll trope -- a romantic relationship, complete with its ecstatic highs and heartbreaking lows. Indie-rock prodigy Bright Eyes already stumbled upon this formula in his anti-war song "One Foot in Front of the Other", as did pop loverboy John Mayer in live rarity "Covered in Rain" (which apparently wasn't "heavy" enough for Mayer's lightweight "Heavier Things" this year).
From the stately opening drum beat of "Lola Stars and Stripes", Logic is a certifiable classic. A simple, propulsive bassline soon joins, and then a cold rush of swirling U2 guitars makes nervous love to Echo and the Bunnymen synths before the music strikes a vein like the dope-addled friend who supposedly sold the Stills his four-track recorder for drug money. Music this good doesn't need lyrics, let alone a vocal, but singer Tim Fletcher channels the best of pre-Kid A Thom Yorke. Instantly, his lofty tenor seems a better voice for modern post-punk than the monotone Joy Division worship of Interpol's Paul Banks (Dear Interpol: flat vocal pitch wasn't what made Ian Curtis brilliant).
Fletcher's lovely vocal chords would be as irrelevant as Curtis's poor ones if not for his fine lyrics: "We all need to feel secure," he begins, "but I'm still waiting for next week's chemical blast." Then, a verse later, this French-Canadian comments sarcastically on the Bush Administration's shoot-first foreign policy: "With an F-16 you'll feel the surge in your American breast." At the phrase "F-16", an electric guitar roars like Top freakin' Gun. I wonder if they watch that in Canada . . .
Then comes the unforgettable hook, bringing all the fears of this post-terrorism society into a tidy romantic microcosm: "Lola, Lola / Will the world end, me and you?" The narrator shares his cynical view with the frightened American girl who half-heartedly hopes for salvation through military might. I can vividly picture the fatalistic couple staring sadly at an irrevocably scarred skyline.
Which brings us to the next track, "Gender Bombs". When Fletcher moans, "The girl will scar you" over another soaring melody, he's not talking about just a girl. Hint: The "bombs" are no mere metaphor.
While nearly every song on the record is memorable, especially the subsequent "Changes Are No Good" and "Love & Death", the Stills buried their true standout on track 10: "Still in Love Song". Lacking the arena-sized dynamics that characterize the rest of Logic, this cut and a remixed version appeared on the group's June 2003 EP Rememberese, which started all the "retro" comparisons in the first place. "I'm still in love," bellows a tortured Fletcher, followed by Oliver Crow's immortal ascending bass line -- perhaps the greatest bass hook in the annals of rock 'n' roll, with the possible exception of Pink Floyd's "Money" (although wasn't that more of a "riff" than a "hook"?). Few pop songs leave you humming the bass line as loudly as the vocal.
"Let's Roll" -- thankfully not a Neil Young cover -- provides the album's most inscrutable moment. This song's rocket-propelled, U2-meets-Coldplay chorus is the one from Logic that will no doubt appear on FOX for some future ho-hum Yankees World Series. But like the best work of another influence, the Smiths, this song is so catchy that a casual listener could enjoy it without noticing the underlying irony. To invoke [i]pere[/i] Springsteen once more, "Let's Roll" could become the Stills' "Born in the U.S.A."
I'm sure a Stills backlash is already underway. Many if not most of their future fans will embrace the Stills' music without really understanding it -- will the hipsters flee when the Strokes-level hype brings Strokes- or larger-sized audiences? And this record isn't perfect -- its high-concept irony necessitates a certain emotional detachment that I would usually decry, although songs like "Of Montreal" scratch the surface of autobiography.
But that's part of the album's message, too, the ongoing battle between emotion and reason -- Logic Will Break Your Heart, get it?
Maybe the Stills will drop their adopted New York cool on future albums and put those broken hearts on full display. Until then, their debut is one of the best of 2003, the best of 9/11, and the best of this year's retro bands. Memo to Messrs. Springsteen and Young: This is how to make money singing about tragedy and still maintain your artistic integrity. And did I mention: Best bass hook ever?
— 21 October 2003
