The Observer, October 5, 2007
Volume XL, Issue 6
John Vanderslice goes to the Emerald City
To many, John Vanderslice is a lesser-known indie rock musician, but he has opened for the likes of giants such as Death Cab for Cutie. It is a shame that Vanderslice has flown under the radar so many times, but perhaps this all will change with the release of his sixth album, Emerald City.
Over the past eight years, Vanderslice's material has progressed from unpolished rock to synthesizer-laden indie pop. Emerald City continues to show this trend but dwells on a more personal and darker level for Vanderslice. On his terror-stricken 2005 release, Pixel Revolt, he narrated life in a post-9/11 world. Two years later, Vanderslice seems to dwell on it even more. Almost all of the songs make reference to the attacks. However, there's a deeper level to his hackneyed references – the album is written as a reaction to his French girlfriend being denied access to the United States. Knowing this, the listener can begin to understand Vanderslice's psyche, and fully appreciate the blown-out anger he harbors.
The album quietly opens with the folk ballad "Kookaburra," which sets the stage for the 9/11 attack references throughout the entire album. Mellifluous harmonies aid Vanderslice's distinct timbre over foreboding guitar work, as Vanderslice paints a dark picture. He sings, "White phosphor rain and black-out bombs are falling out the sky tonight." However, as the song ends, there is a sense of peace until the standout track, "Time to Go," booms with a distorted acoustic guitar. Vanderslice relies on his commonly-used theme of manifest destiny to describe a desperate sense of moving on. The song is short, and leaves the listener wanting more of this new side of Vanderslice. He angrily scorns, "Don't know what you had, it's time to go."
"The Parade" opens lazily and creates a new tone for the album. The song eschews political sentiments, and creates a feeling of nostalgia. Within this Emerald City, "The Parade" shows that maybe life wasn't so dreary at one time. Trademark synthesizers break down over the bridge before going into a low-key chorus. The booming "White Dove" marks a return for the overdriven acoustic guitars, as well as a sense of Vanderslice's earlier rock sound. Another strong point of the album is "Tablespoon of Codeine," which depicts a tale of hiding out from the public and overcoming addiction. The tale is hopeful, aside from the twin tower references, while the instrumentation relies heavily on synthesizers making the song particularly intriguing.
"The Tower" and "The Minaret" mark the lowest points of the album, where the songs are largely forgettable and seem too similar. The last standout track, "Numbered Lithograph," saves the album from plunging into mediocrity, though. Vanderslice yelps over synthesizers and overdriven acoustic guitars. He sounds desperate, making the song particularly powerful despite its brevity. Emerald City ends on the ninth track, "Central Booking," which remorsefully sees Vanderslice folding to fate. He mournfully throws in the towel, singing "Looks like September has won once again." Despite all his anger, it cannot change his vain travail against government policy.
While the album and many of its songs are remarkably short, Emerald City is impressive overall. It won't catapult Vanderslice into indie rock stardom, but it certainly won't hurt him. The lyrics don't hide behind many fictional stories, and reveal a new candor in Vanderslice's style. While the 9/11 references begin to grow tiresome, given the context, it becomes understandable and even endearing.
