MARAH
Float Away With the Friday Night Gods
(E-Squared/Artemis )
Any good artist gets bored. He might look at his body of work, compare it to his current project, and decide, "Eh…been there, done that." He might decide to change his style, his method of working, even his location. He might decide to rip up the foundation of what made his art what it is and lay down an entirely new base. He might pull the tree up from the roots and plant new seeds. In other words, to avoid stagnation, he might undergo a complete transformation. But such a move can serve as much to alienate one's core audience as to bring about artistic renewal (and perhaps some new fans along the way). The trick with these kinds of projects is to inject fresh, even radical ideas into the art without losing what makes it special and identifiable in the first place.

Which brings us to the new album by Philadelphia's Marah. The band became heroes to fans of the new roots rock with two strong records, Let's Cut the Crap and Hook Up Later On Tonight and Kids in Philly, and live performances that were like the second coming of the Replacements (if they hadn't been drunks). But apparently bandleaders Dave and Serge Bielanko felt hemmed in by the boundaries drawn around them by well-meaning fans and critics, not to mention the constant Bruce Springsteen comparisons, and decided on a musical makeover. They picked up a new rhythm section, moved to the United Kingdom, hooked up with Oasis/Verve producer Owen Morris and made a record that's radically different from what they've done before.

Float Away With the Friday Night Gods is a widescreen rock/pop record that eschews even the faintest hint of roots rock for a high-gloss sheen tailor-made for sounding great coming out of radio or dance club speakers. There's nothing intimate or subtle about these tracks—nearly every one is loudly produced and mixed to put the hooks right in your face. This is music made to be heard on arena stages and video awards shows, not beer joints. The Bielanko sibs respond to this new environment by reinventing their songwriting style as well. Tunes like "Soul," "For All We Know We're Dreaming" and "Revolution" (the sequencer-enhanced arrangement of which sounds remarkably like 80s ZZ Top) emphasize the hooks and the rhythms over everything else. Lines like "I am the star-crossed keeper of the tarot/With a fortune like a pharaoh/Steppin' out of a Camaro/Come on, let's get high" (from "People of the Underground," apparently a tribute to British clubhoppers) typify the lyrical concerns, as the Bielankos go more for impressionism than specifics. Gone are the incisive character studies and hard-hitting bar band rock & roll of the first two albums, replaced by generalized, big-voiced anthems perfect for singing along and waving your lighter.

The problem isn't that the record doesn't work on its own terms; it does. "Float Away" and the Philly soul-quoting "Out in Style" are irresistibly catchy and memorable, and "Crying On an Airplane" is one of the band's most beautiful songs. The rest of the tracks aren't quite up to those standards, but they're still high quality fluff, and do indeed sound great coming out jambox speakers. The question for longtime fans, however, is not whether or not it's a good record; it's whether or not it's a good Marah record. If the group's name wasn't on the spine, you'd never know from listening to this album that it was Marah. Dave Bielanko's whisky 'n' cigs rasp isn't as recognizable in this context, and the band's usual songwriting MO is MIA. Those unfamiliar with Marah may very well think this to be a great album by an exceptional new rock band; those following the group from the beginning, however, may end up scratching their foreheads, if not snarling in anger. The band probably doesn't care whether this record is seen as a fresh new direction for newcomers or a big middle finger to its fans, but for most people it's probably going to be one or the other. It's unclear whether the number of converts will outstrip that of disgruntled fans, which may make all the difference as to whether the band will continue in this direction. Or not. Rather than any attempt at commercial concession, Float Away With the Friday Night Gods may be Marah honestly indulging an artistic whim. It remains to be seen, however, if that indulgence will have any kind of authentic payoff. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: the Goo-Goo Dolls, Oasis, Sister Hazel

Copyright © 2002 High Bias