Everything and nothing has changed for Comets on Fire on Avatar, the Sub Pop group's latest LP. While the band had previously found a way to boil its pedigree of proto-metal influences into pure adrenaline, suddenly it seems to be using the entire pot, slow songs and all. Fans of the group's previous album, Blue Cathedral, will wonder what's happened to its full-bore rock: Mid-tempo opener and tone-setter "Dogwood Rust" sounds rollicking when compared to some of the piano-led tracks that follow it. On "Dogwood", Ethan Miller's vocals have relaxed, though the musicians haven't, still jamming and stretching to the ends of their abilities, just a little quieter this time. The relative calm of the track can't hide its vintage metal melody, and the band shortly drops back to let the bass march it into more improvisational territory.
The relentless patter of the drums rolls on through the even gentler "Jaybird", and listeners may begin to welcome Miller's sweeter, softer tones-- as long as a guitar still squirms with spite in the distance, of course. Many of these tracks promise a heavier freak-out after their initial pussyfootin', but the change always comes smoothly and naturally. Divert your attention for a minute, and you might assume "Jaybird" is over, but it's just the heavy blues riff finally clearing its throat and making itself heard.
For a band that trades in sounding over-the-top, wistful suits Comets on Fire pretty well. It's strange to hear them croon over a teetering piano, but it's worth noting how comfortable they sound in that role, and how easily they slide back and forth through it. Of course, someone busts out with an abstract squiggle or a squealing lead whenever the cliché meter veers toward the red (see "Lucifer's Memory", the closest the band come to a power ballad). And Comets on Fire have been mining the sound for so long, those self-sabotaging moments sound completely natural-- it's the perfect time in their career to throw a curveball.
It helps that the record is excellently paced: starting with the heavy hook of "Dogwood Rust", getting quieter and quieter until the nearly-instrumental "Swallow's Eye", then returning with the forceful backdraft of "Holy Teeth", a tantalizing three-minute burst of the band at top speed. The weak spot is "Sour Smoke", a meandering two-organ stomp that creeps like a giant trying to sneak down a hallway. All other tracks never lose a sense of purpose despite their detours, and are surprisingly tuneful.
Their loose, improvisational style still falls under some people's definition of "jamming," but just as it seemed to me with Blue Cathedral, it's textural above all else. The chops are easily discernible under the surface, but they don't put a hand up in the air or a spotlight on anyone (including Ben Chasny, now a full-time Comet) when it's time for the hot licks, they just charge forward. Moreover, you don't need to count every note to understand what they're aiming for. It could be on headphones, car speakers, or in the distance during a barbecue and I would understand what Comets on Fire were getting across: They have to honor their influences not by merely updating their sound, but by beating them at their own game. Skirting indulgence just isn't an option. Put on the record when your all-night party prepares to cower and squint in the first rays of daylight, or maybe just play it as side 2 to Blue Cathedral's side 1, the comedown section to a massive slab of unrepentant hard-rock musicianship. Just like last time around, Avatar is something for the plebes, the purists, the dabblers, and the old heads all at once-- a crossover in the best sense of the word.
