Like so many child stars before them, Smith Westerns seemed to be headed toward an early burnout. Brothers Cullen and Cameron Omori and their friend Max Kakacek laid down the sandpaper bubblegum of their 2009 self-titled debut when they were still in high school; by the time of 2011’s Dye it Blonde, they were gleefully glomming onto the grandiosity of their classic-rock heroes, in the musical and “extracurricular” senses. Seeing Smith Westerns on the Dye it Blonde tour was like (I imagine) witnessing Faster Pussycat on the Sunset Strip in the late 1980s-- the music was very loud, the band appeared to be a little partied out, and the vibe of youthful decadence verged on self-destructive. As good as the first two Smith Westerns albums were, I questioned whether they could forge a career-- or even make it to the next gig. They were living out their college years in a rock‘n’roll band, a more eye-opening education in some ways, though it doesn’t exactly prepare you for adulthood.
On Smith Westerns’ latest, Soft Will, the band still sounds like a bunch of cocky kids with a preternatural understanding of 1970s glam-rock aesthetics and the physics of power pop songcraft. But the swagger has been tempered along with the tempos; a preference for stately balladry over snotty stompers steers Soft Will away from Electric Warrior and into All Things Must Pass territory.
Lyrically, Soft Will is like the undergraduate version of Vampire Weekend’s recent post-doctoral dissertation on mortality, Modern Vampires of the City-- VW’s cautious “Diane Young” could be an answer record to Dye it Blonde’s celebratory “All Die Young”. Omori is just getting to the point where he can finally see outside of himself, and understand that the world is a big, scary, unknowable place that you might not have licked after all. “I thought I was a loner until I went out on my own,” he sings on Will’s beatific closing track “Varsity”, as bell-like synths echo back to one of the all-time great “you’re all alone now, bub,” classics, Naked Eyes’ “Always Something There to Remind Me”. Soft Will culminates with a graduation of sorts-- Smith Westerns have survived their adolescence as a band, learned the right lessons, and (gasp) seem to have grown up.
While the band’s outlook has matured, what hasn’t changed on Soft Will is Smith Westerns’ ability to turn out instantly likeable guitar and synth-based hooks at a prodigious rate. “3am Spiritual” opens Will with a callback to Dye it Blonde, as a simple six-string strum and lilting keyboard figure give way to a heart-tugging “Whoa! Yeah!” chorus. It’s a songwriting trick learned from poring over records that were born around the time the band members were-- Bandwagonesque and I Should Coco and (definitely) Definitely Maybe. Smith Westerns aren’t interested in changing up their formula, they’ve merely found a way to utilize it more thoughtfully.
Just as Dye it Blonde sounded like Smith Westerns with better (or any) production and more sophisticated songwriting, Soft Will elaborates on Dye it Blonde by sharpening the choruses-- the “tell me tell me tell me the answer 'cuz I’m not sure” bit from “Idol” is particularly sticky-- and refining the arrangements. On the instrumental “XXIII”, Soft Will even approaches the elegance of Air’s score for Sofia Coppola's The Virgin Suicides, evoking a similar end-of-childhood dread with its cinematic mix of doomy piano chords and spectral string swooshes. Smith Westerns have given their own coming-of-age an appropriately majestic soundtrack. (The guitar riff on "Best Friend" is like a cross between CC Deville's guitar solo from Poison’s “Something to Believe In” and Clarence Clemons’ sax solo from Springsteen’s “Jungleland”.)
In the context of Smith Westerns’ discography, Soft Will is both a fresh start and a conclusion to the first part of the band’s career. In case it needs be pointed out: Smith Westerns have already built an impressive battery of records. Few groups do wistfully melodic trad-rock any better right now. Smith Westerns haven’t only not burned out, they’re a budding institution.
