Audio By Carbonatix
Pop goes the easel
Non Pop-Specific
pop poppins
Carpe Diem Records
It’s probably a disservice to the other guys in pop poppins to focus on Broose Dickinson, but he is the group’s hyper-creative frontman and guiding light. Pop poppins have always been the masters of an emotion-laden sonic flow, and this album is no different, trafficking most often in that pouring rush of sound so typical of pop music in the mid-to-late ’80s and currently enjoying a renaissance through acts like Spinning Ginny and Comet.
In the past, pop poppins’ albums almost sound too pretty, sometimes passing by so pleasantly that the listener forgets to look for a message or point. Part of this stems from Dickinson’s (the songs are ostensibly group efforts, but there are many similarities between pop poppins and Dickinson’s solo efforts) lush sense of melody and his habit of overlaying both voices and guitars until they sound very much alike.
On Non Pop-Specific, the band attempts to remedy this attractive fault. Guitars are brought up more to the fore (the trilling line that accents “Gotta Lotta Lovin’,” the trebly rhythm part on “Find Your Savior”) and there’s a plainly discernible tone to most songs. In fact, thematically, the album seems balanced between acceptance (or even resignation–listen to “Life Is Always Life,” “Madness,” and “I Don’t Mind”) and further struggle (“Gotta lotta lovin’ to do/before you see it happen,” which actually might fit both sides of the equation).
On the whole, the album is encouraging but conflicted. “Don’t Fall Apart”‘s narrator asks someone to persevere, even though that means that he’s going to be kept “hanging on.” That’s not the usual pop reaction to such a state, but it recognizes and accepts that “hanging on” is essential to both parties. One song plays off of the aural (and, by implication, contextual) similarities between the word “stranger” and “savior”; another declares that “blind love is perfect for me.”
All of which could be pretty dour stuff, if not cushioned by Dickinson’s lovely melodies (“Sound Escape” is a soothing exercise in its title, with voices chiming like bells). Although some of the songs and most of the choruses often feature layers of vocals–returning us to the realm of the barely perceived message–the singing on some of the other verses stands out more than ever, particularly on “Find Your Savior” and “In the Cave.” On “Cave,” Dickinson stands highest above the instrumental mix, sounding uncertain and vulnerable–almost like a young Neil Young–as he tells a story of (metaphorical) exploration that can be read any number of ways; perhaps most tellingly as a parable of a dominant voice wandering about inside a group’s sound.
–Matt Weitz
