Los Campesinos!- Romance Is Boring

Los Campesinos!- Romance Is Boring
Rating: 8.5/10

In early 2008, Hold On Now, Youngster came and went in the blink of an eye. To say it was overlooked by many critics and a vast majority of the public would be a gross understatement. Despite (or possibly because of) its naive, childlike intimacy, it managed to encapsulate the raw, angst-ridden energy of nerdy adolescent bookworms everywhere. Eight months later, the band released the brief, aggressive We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed, which maintained a much darker tone and atmosphere than its predecessor. It was less instantly gratifying, but received more commercial attention and praise, ultimately overshadowing their jarring debut-- a rare case of a band's prolificacy actually working against them.

With Youngster being a collection of the band's earliest material and We Are Beautiful originally intended as an EP, it's fair to say that Romance Is Boring is the band's first attempt at starting an album from scratch. So the fact that this album materialized in just over a year's time is shocking, to say the least. In many respects, it's a blend of their two previous efforts-- it continues with the ominous vibe of Beautiful, enhancing it with a more lively and often sinister musicality but, unlike their previous release, Romance includes a handful of memorable radio-friendly tracks. Though its music is generally hit-or-miss (mostly 'hit'), as usual, the record truly belongs to singer/lyricist Gareth Campesino (if you weren't already aware, the band stole a page from the 'Ramones'-- all members officially go by the same surname).

The album commences with a song entitled "In Medias Res" (a Latin phrase used to describe a story that begins during conflict) suggesting that we're about to be thrown directly into the heart of the storm. A lightly strummed acoustic guitar lulls you into a false sense of security until the drums enter and Gareth lets out a scathingly tongue-in-cheek: "well, let's talk about you for a minute..." before proceeding to rant about himself for the majority of the record. Two minutes into "In Medias Res", the music shifts to a grim and dissonant drone while multiple voices recite some of the most graphic and intriguing lyrics I've heard in a long time:

"I'm leaving my body to science/not medical, but physics/...drop me at the highest point and trace a line around the dent I leave in the ground/that'll be the initial of the one you'll marry now that I'm not around".

The song culminates in a triumphant march when a bouncy horn section enters without fair warning or precedent, resulting in one of the most compelling movements the band has yet recorded. I could attempt to describe it in detail, but it simply needs to be heard to be believed. "There Are Listed Buildings" is the album's most obvious return-to-form-- exciting drum beats, chirping guitar riffs, shifting time signatures, and choral chanting assure us that Los Campesinos are still the same Welsh misfits that recorded great tracks like "We Are All Accelerated Readers" and "Broken Heartbeats" not so long ago. With Aleks taking the lead for the first time on the record, "We've Got Your Back" is more of what we've come to expect from the Campesinos family. What's more, her vocal delivery has vastly improved over the past few years, making her recent departure from the band all the more upsetting.

"Straight In At 101" is one of the best cuts off the album, filled with countless hooks, wonderful melodies, and some hilarious narratives. But despite a handful of comical assertions, the song eventually ends with Gareth lamenting his shattered ego; the instrumentation unexpectedly drops out, leaving him alone to recite in a melodically disheartened mutter:

"...I phone my friends and family to gather around the television/the talking heads count down the most heart-wrenching break ups of all time/imagine the great sense of waste, the indignity, the embarrassment/when not a single one of that whole century was mine".

Gareth is such a likable, honest voice for the band. He possesses the natural ability to communicate and invite his listeners into his personal life without appearing needy or manipulative. After the first few songs, I noticed myself becoming more and more personally invested in what he had to say. Break-ups are tough, man-- I've been through my share and can definitively say there's no lonelier sensation, not to mention that they always bring to the surface feelings of anger and inadequacy. That's exactly what Gareth is experiencing-- only, it grows frustrating for the listener when he seems to revel in adding insult to emotional injury. The melancholy splendor of "The Sea Is A Good Place To Think Of The Future" establishes a different kind of maturity in Gareth's lyrics, masterfully painting the picture of a young girl with anorexia struggling through a life of depression.

"I can see five hundred years dead set ahead of me/and five hundred behind-- a thousand years in perfect symmetry".

The album closes with the the relaxingly subdued "A Burn Scar In The Shape of the Sooner State", which nostalgically recounts the dissolved relationship in allegorical specificity. It ultimately concludes with the band repeatedly chanting "I can't believe I chose the mountains every time you chose the sea" --likely representing the disconnect between what the two lovers individually deemed important in their lives. I'd like to think the sea and mountains symbolize her being open and him being rigid, but clearly the two are in completely different places, causing their instinctive desires to tear them apart. Although there's a new degree of seriousness in many of the album's lyrics, Gareth Campesino doesn't exactly stray from the quirky and often hilarious lines he's known for sneaking into his songs:

"I think we need more post-coital and less post-rock/seems like the build-up takes forever, but you never get me off"

--it's uncomfortably blunt, isn't it? Whereas most songwriters would throw in these asides mostly for shock-value, you get the feeling that he's doing it out of constructive desperation. In contrast, lines like "every girl I ever kissed I was thinking of a pro-footballer" serve as a constant reminder that he's far away from taking himself too seriously as a songwriter.

I think it's safe to say the glockenspiel-wielding indie-pop band that emerged just a few short years ago is no more. As saddening as the thought of that is, it's equally as exciting to witness Los Campesinos grow and evolve as a band. Though Romance Is Boring is less consistent and lacks the "pop" sensibility of their debut, it fully affirms that the band is talented enough to excel at a different type of expressive indie-rock. Whether it's the catchy singalong title-track, the pounding "This Is A Flag, There Is No Wind", or the lovingly raucous "Plan A", this album introduces a diverse catalog of styles and sounds. Their previous releases rarely utilized studio effects or extensive production value for sonic texture, but on Romance, Los Campesinos create a spacious atmosphere that genuinely sounds like no other album in my music library.

Though Romance Is Boring not a "great album" (though it does get better with every listen), it certainly is encouraging-- it gives me a great amount of confidence in the fact that, regardless of the direction they choose to pursue, Los Campesinos' next release will be an honest, authentic expression of the band's collective disposition. If you decide to read into the concept of musicians coming together to create a unified product, the previous statement may sound obligatory or even inescapable-- but it's really much less common than you might think. I would even speculate that, more often than not, collective compositions generally derive from either artistic tyranny, concession, or pandering. Though his creative input is far from domineering, one thing is for certain-- without Gareth's candid verbiage, Los Campesinos would undoubtedly lose a majority of its charm and allure. Ranging from witty and amusing to insightful and contemplative in a matter of seconds, he sports his heart on his blood-drenched sleeve like it's a quirky fashion statement. In the final moments of the album's opening track, Gareth presents us with a fascinatingly heartfelt dilemma:

"If you were given the option of dying painlessly in peace at forty-five/but with a lover at your side/after a full and happy life/--is this something that would interest you?"

My guess is that he would answer "no" to his proposition, seeing as how this album exists almost entirely to ensure the listener that love without pain is unfeasible and happy endings are merely the product of fiction. It's extremely pessimistic, I know, but for a lot of people, it's just the way things turn out. I personally don't buy into the inevitability of loneliness. But still, given the unfailing opportunity to experience a brief, fulfilling life with the woman I love-- I can't help but say yes.

--Jon Manning

There Are Listed Buildings

In Medias Res

Romance Is Boring

Straight In At 101