As much as we love our grandiose anthem bands, it's hard reminiscing about their humble beginnings. Sure, you can watch grainy videos of old-school U2 with their mullets and almost embarrassingly simple technical skill, but it's impossible to retrospectively enjoy them as a simple four-piece band rather than the global tour de force they've become. Fast forward a generation, and you can observe the same ex post facto effect with the Arcade Fire's awkward yet endearing debut EP, which was first received tepidly but now possesses a prodigal quality after two monster full-lengths.
If someday Los Angeles' Foreign Born conquer Earth and devote their time aiding third-world countries, I'm betting On the Wing Now enjoys a similar treatment. Full of vast, powerful tunes that take an earnest aim at the human condition, the band's full-length debut builds on the potential of their previous two EPs while tapping a more varied array of musical influences. Nearly any band with a penchant for the dramatic and/or life-affirming can be heard somewhere on this album, from the Arcade Fire-influenced wall of "oh's" on opener "Union Hall" to "The Nights Tall" crossing jangly guitars and brainy basslines à la R.E.M.
Foreign Born is much more than a pastiche of your nearest and dearest bands, however. Lead singer Matt Popieluch possesses a unique emotive voice that transmogrifies even the most nondescript turns of phrases into climactic profundities. On the wistful "Trial Wall", he solemnly croons, "We've got five years/ To float on by," the pathos eerily reminiscent of David Bowie's classic Ziggy Stardust opener. Even with his shrillest of yelps, Popieluch's tone always contains a glimmer of hope, a trick no doubt borrowed from rock's guardian angel laureate, Bono.
Wielding the expertise of guitarist/producer Lewis Pesacov, a composition major in college, the band squeezes every last histrionic drop out of their cut-and-dry songwriting. Concert hall reverb and dense harmonies mask potentially ho-hum pop chord sequences, and, as the slow, captivating build of "Letter of Inclusion" proves, these guys have a great grasp on dynamics and dramatic timing. At times there's a tendency for the songwriting to shirk responsibilities onto this production, in particular on the cold feet pseudo-psych rock of "Into Your Dream" or "Don't Take Back Your Time", two relatively uninspired tracks. Still, for the most part the studio hot-dogging helps more than hurts, especially in elevating the modest instrumentation to Popieluch's awesome level.
If there's one problem with Foreign Born as an anthem band, it's that they don't quite yet have a show-stealing anthem. Sure, you have the aforementioned emotional peaks and valleys, but they don't oscillate as wildly as desired, and too many consecutive upbeat numbers tend to flatten their emotional efficacy. "Holy Splinter" and "Union Hall" hint at the band's ability to write massive songs with an added visceral punch, a more intense psychological kick. Still, the band might as well keep reaching for the stars since their "failures" still make for an engaging album, and hopefully this baby U2 someday grows into an anthemic monolith of its own.
