Can't Wait Another Day would be easier to love if it didn't keep accidentally signposting a shortage of fresh songwriting ideas. It can't help but feel symbolic when the Ladybug Transistor covers Trader Horne's "Here Comes the Rain", if only because the chorus is awfully similar to Jan & Dean's "Like a Summer Rain"-- a song this band covered a few albums back. Only a pop geek would spend much time noticing that the next track is vaguely in the style of Twinkle's 1964 hit "Terry", except that said next track is titled..."Terry". And you'd never think that the album's second-best track, "For No Other", feels a bit like a song called "Rushes of Pure Spring"-- not unless you'd heard that one on the Ladybug Transistor's second album. Oh, I'm vastly overstating the case: These are dim resemblances, not steals, and the "Here Comes the Rain" thing is surely intentional. But they do seem to reinforce the sense of a band that's still sorting out where to head next, not yet nailing it down.
They can be forgiven for that, especially after the departure of key member Sasha Bell. This is a figuring-things-out album, just as the vast Ladybug & Friends roster of guest contributions suggests: Even the label's advertising copy calls it "a promise of good things to come." The good news is that they'd seem to have their eyes on a new path. A few years after 1999's fantastic The Albemarle Sound, the group's high point of paisley-covered indie pop baroque, they took a few steps back toward rock's middle ground, as if worried that all those stately arrangements and flute breaks were going out of style; it's made them more popular, but less interesting. On this record, they make some firm, decisive gestures toward a new direction: Their usual lush, languorous sound picks up tinges of well-heeled folk and country, and a few big doses of the warm, sentimental Nashville sound Lambchop used to trade in.
Bobby Goldsboro gets offered as one potential inspiration, and a listen to his 1968 hit "Honey"-- lavished with strings, choir, and even theremin-- will explain the connection: Just compare with "Lord, Don't Pass Me By", the Ladybug Transistor's grand album closer. (Elsewhere, "This Old Chase" sounds, weirdly enough, like Ric Ocasek and the Cars going western.) This sound isn't in the least a bad fit: Singer Gary Olson is one of far too few guys in indie with the kind of rich, liquid baritone that can sell a slow, sad melody. That comes in handy through the rest of this record, too, which feels like a late-breaking, friends-and-all lap through the good old gorgeous: "For No Other" in particular is as deep and warm as anything they've ever done. When all those qualities come together with a solid song-- like the beautifully written "Always on the Telephone"-- it's a real thrill, even before the astounding 80s-styled sax solo.
When it comes to staking out a new direction, these are solid results: You can't help but wish them lots of luck in pinning down their new sound, lineup, and working method, especially after the recent death of San Fadyl, one of the more lovable drummers in indie rock. As an album, though, this one feels like a bit of a stall-- a little filler, a little room to breathe, and a little time to make plans. The band's years making friends and fans all through the indie and indie pop worlds mean they've earned enough credit for people to bear with them, and even enjoy their work in progress-- but here's hoping they'll plow their new furrow as fully, uniquely, and single-mindedly as they did with The Albemarle Sound.
