It sort of seems like Jered Gummere made a bet with himself. Can he write and record an entire album made out of nothing but clichés? The most threadbare chord progressions? The most predictable lyrics? The same standard-issue touchstones-- Television, the Modern Lovers, the Velvet Underground-- that his last band, the Ponys, wound up settling on? With The Affliction, the debut by his new outfit, Bare Mutants, the answer to all the above is a yawning “Yeah, I guess.” But where the Pony’s 2007 swansong, Turn the Lights Out, showed some promising progression for Gummere as a songwriter, The Affliction is a head-retracting shrug back into the shell.
You can't accuse the album of lacking consistency. No less than half the songs follow the same infuriatingly precise formula-- strummy, two-chord intro followed by dreamy buildup followed by full-bore freakout-- without deviating from the template VU threw down long ago with “Heroin”. (Let that sink in: a large portion of this album sounds not only exactly like VU, but exactly like “Heroin”.) Occasionally Gummere and crew branch out-- like on the jaunty, bittersweet “Nothing Is Gold”, which is one of two songs that effectively utilize backup singer Jeanine O’Toole, also of the 1900s, as a full duet partner. (That said, “Nothing Is Gold” sounds like VU’s “After Hours”.)
O’Toole makes an even stronger showing on “Cunt”, one of the few glimpses of the rich, thrilling range-- both tone-wise and inspiration-wise-- that Gummere is capable of, if only he’d bother more often. Ragged, glammy, and sauntering on broad stomps of bubblegum boogie, “Cunt” gives Gummere and O’Toole enough fresh air to trade verses in a vivifying rush of power-pop fun. Conversely, the album’s other standout track, “I Suck at Life”, falls way down on the despondent end of the spectrum, although it’s buoyed by a streak of grim wit, Gummere’s gluey croon, and a colossally sloppy guitar solo that’s nearly as good as Dean Wareham’s sloshed pyrotechnics in Galaxie 500.
The Affliction, then, has two speeds: copying the Velvet Underground and copying other bands that copy the Velvet Underground. What helps mitigate the disc’s unconcern with its lack of dynamic is the fact that Gummere the singer has never sounded better. His jittery Tom Verlaine yelp on the Ponys’ stellar first album, 2004’s Laced With Romance, has gradually given way over the past 10 years to a warm, worn-smooth murmur, and that low-level hum of atmosphere serves songs such as “Devotion” well, even if little else in the song does-- including Gummere’s lyrics, which rarely dare to try rising above boilerplate angst and vagueness. On top of lazy phrasing, he recycles many specific words and images throughout, including repeated mentions of the ocean. Then again, that is the name of a VU song.
The lack of ambition on The Affliction is almost ambitious. The Ponys never broke through to the level they could, and maybe even should have, so it isn’t surprising that, after a six-year hiatus, Gummere is simply coasting on what he loves most-- as narrow as that wave of overused influences may be. Despite a few lovely moments, The Affliction sounds more like an album made for him than anyone else. But with a voice so suffused with dimension and soulfulness, he could have doubled down on Bare Mutants, crafting songs that might better enhance and convey that soul. Instead, the band plays it straight, workmanlike, distractingly derivative, and blandly safe. It’s a lot easier to win bets when you hedge them.
