Being friends with Vampire Weekend would've helped any band in 2008, but it was particularly beneficial to Ra Ra Riot and their relentlessly charming debut, The Rhumb Line, whose college rock came in similarly preppy tailoring. Plenty of this genre's practitioners have attended ritzy private schools, but these two bands sounded like it: melodically nimble and compact songs bedecked with chamber-pop sweetener and nods to 1980s art-rock. Of course, Ra Ra Riot never faced the same accusations of cultural appropriation or privilege (maybe because Syracuse isn't in the Ivy League?), but oddly enough, their detractors denounced them as even less edgy and more buttoned-up. Perhaps The Orchard is a reaction to that criticism; it pushes their stylistic range at the cost of hooks.
The record's up-tempo singles rehash the band's previous sound to slighter effect. The intentionally offbeat bass on "Boy" distracts, while "Too Dramatic" is anything but, its awkward rhymes sounding like parts of a melodic chain that's missing a couple of links. The Orchard is best when Ra Ra Riot integrate plusher production into more natural arrangements. While the rangy, chugging motorik of "Massachusetts" and "You and I Know"'s dusky balladry (sung by cellist Alexandra Lawn) meander, they at least try something new, hinting that The Orchard might be something of a grower. But as soon as they build momentum with The Orchard's most typically triumphant hook ("Shadowcasting"), the ironically titled "Do You Remember" kicks off a final third that fails to leave any impression.
Any band with a successful debut is tempted to make its next album reactionary, but if Ra Ra Riot were set on doing so, they could've learned something from VW's Contra, a sonically rich and fearless comeback that sounded like the work of a band who, as our Mike Powell said, had "fallen in love with what they started and are hugging it tight without shame or apology." Instead, Ra Ra Riot sound overly self-conscious, the rural environs of their recording space failing to provide the warmth, empathy, or exuberance of The Rhumb Line. They've survived worse things than a bum album (between their self-titled EP and The Rhumb Line, drummer John Pike passed away), so it would be foolish to write them off, but The Orchard at the very least can prove that making something as effortlessly amiable as The Rhumb Line isn't as easy at it seems.
