A lot can change in four years. You could argue that these last four have seen quite a bit more change than most similar spans-- the years all start with a 2 now, television networks have just stopped trying and resorted to shoveling unscripted emotional manipulation in front of their viewers, and the entire American complex of invulnerability came down in a horrible hail of debris two Septembers ago, changing our collective view of the world for the foreseeable future. It was four years ago, in 1999, that we last heard from the guys in Wheat, and mercy, what the time hasn't done to them.
Back when the 90s were drawing to a close, Wheat sounded pretty well at home plying a brand of melancholic, slightly lo-fi mope-rock. For all intents, they were an indie rock archetype for their era, filling in while Guided by Voices seemed to be aiming arenaward and Sebadoh were falling apart. But as much as they captured the era on their sophomore LP, Hope and Adams, most music has since moved on to brighter, more rhythmic pastures, and this apparently wasn't lost on Wheat. Per Second Per Second Per Second... Every Second is Wheat's third full-length and first for a major, and the difference is huge from the first note to the last.
Wheat always had a whiff of the suburban anthem in them (see: "Raised Ranch Revolution" from Hope and Adams), but they take a whole-hearted leap into huge, airwave-friendly shoes here that you'd hardly even recognize them. Producer Dave Fridmann, who also worked with the band four years ago, might as well be Dave Eringa as far as the sound of the thing is concerned-- it's punchy, and packed full of big riffs, tight harmonies and sharp, close-mic'd drumming, half a world removed from his work with Mercury Rev, The Flaming Lips and The Delgados.
Thankfully, the band is up to the challenge of turning up the spotlights and the volume, and they crank out a solid batch of insanely catchy, pristine pop songs that'll crawl inside your brain and die there, only to come back and haunt you at the oddest times. "Closer to Mercury" is bursting with guitar riffs and harmonized leads, occupying a strange place between Thin Lizzy and U2. Principle vocalist Scott Levesque breaks out in a big way on this album, verging on (rock) operatic at times-- he even tiptoes around the ghost of Jeff Buckley on "Life Still Applies"-- but always with his signature hint of grit and resignation holding it down to earth.
Wheat don't waste any time announcing how much they've changed, kicking off with the choppy rhythms of "I Met a Girl" and Levesque's chorus of "I met a girl I'd like to know better/ But I'm already with someone" bypassing everything for the jugular. The song's bridge smooths out, almost getting lost under a wave of vocal processing, but the chorus roars back for a final go-round just in time. "Breathe" nods to George Harrison with its lead guitar part over a bubbling bassline and wordless backing vocals, one of several songs that ought to keep college DJs busy for a few weeks.
Wheat have made a bold move here by stepping out entirely from behind whatever lo-fi shield remained on their last album and hurling themselves completely into no-holds-barred pop. Per Second has an immediacy that it once seemed unlikely we'd ever hear from this band, to the point where some of Wheat's old fans may not be willing to follow them down their new path. It's their loss, really. Per Second Per Second Per Second... Every Second is an expertly crafted great time.
