You know, I've got to be square with you. I used to
like Rainer Maria. Having been a Midwestern teenager
in the late 90s, square in the midst of my
Melodramatic Period, Rainer's sense of tragic
romanticism and ever-so-slightly math-punk sound
was exactly what I was looking for in the late
high-school/early college years. Powered by the
wonderfully wrong harmonies of singers Caithlin de
Marrais and Kyle Fischer, the trio hit their stride
early with their debut's opener "Tinfoil" and
Look
Now Look Again, their second and best record.
So you understand how I'd disappointed that Long Knives Drawn is not very good, not very good at all.
Though I'm not too surprised, really, after the trajectory
suggested by their 2001 release A Better Version of
Me, a highly flawed effort that found the band
smoothing out the time-sig skips and clashing duets
for an unsatisfying Loveless-lite sound.
Largely missing Fischer's distinctive vocal
interactions, while reflecting his increased complacency
with sitting on single (albeit noisy) chords for
indeterminable amounts of time, A Better Version
wasn't so much deserving of scorn as it was yawningly
bland.
Long Knives Drawn at least hints at a rebound,
starting off at an energetic clip with three songs
which, at times, show hints of the band's old spark.
"Ears Ring" even contains an abrasive riff and pessimistic
chorus worthy of Pedro the Lion ("you need contact
daily, or conscience is failing"), though without
David Bazan's morose delivery, it doesn't come off
quite so meaningful.
It's all a log roll downhill from there, though, as it
becomes increasingly clear that Fischer isn't going
to step to the mic, and the music isn't going to
regain much of its previous unpredictability and kick.
Rainer Maria doesn't even seem up to conjuring up
much of a storm any more, "The Double Life" and "The
Imperatives" being surprisingly tame, dampered affairs
too lacking in boister to attract attention, and
"Situation Relation" forgettably occupying the band's
now-customary solemn, finger-picked closing track slot.
But ultimately, it's the unbearable triteness of the
lyrics that does Long Knives Drawn in. Rainer
sympathizer as I might be, I just can't forgive lines
like "I think that we should go and live in a monastery"
serving as the vocal hook without popping a Rolaid.
I went into Long Knives Drawn hoping for a comeback
to justify my unpopular soft spot for Rainer Maria, but I've
come away with all my fears about their route confirmed,
wondering if my previous fanship was just one of those
cheeky mistakes of youth. Whatever the reason for my
apathy, it's a sentiment concisely summed up by the band
itself: "Once there was something, and now there's just a
piece of atmosphere." Chalk up another victory for the
Pitchfork status quo.