Does size matter? Now three albums in, the Polyphonic Spree would appear to be the indie rock band uniquely positioned to answer that question. The Dallas symphonic-pop chorale weren't the first under-the-radar group to mimic the overflowing orchestration of sunshine-pop acts the Fifth Dimension and the Partridge Family; Danielson did this in the 90s. But the Spree's 2002 debut coincided with a period of new respect for over-sized lineups, from Broken Social Scene and the Arcade Fire to Architecture in Helsinki and I'm From Barcelona, with even Belle & Sebastian going Godspell for a minute there. Surely indie rock nerds couldn't just be overcompensating.
In the battle of "size of the boat" vs. "motion of the ocean," new Spree album The Fragile Army proves, perhaps appropriately...indecisive. Pre-release buzz centered as much on the band's shift from robes to black combat garb as on its new songs, but ain't nothing wrong with a good gimmick. The Fragile Army channels the group's positive collective energy into a more focused political solidarity, plus a few of Tim DeLaughter's best songs since his Tripping Daisy days. Still, the Spree's vision remains too vague, their revolutionary pop ambition too dependent on fuddy-duddy classical pomp, for The Fragile Army to rank as an unqualified success.
Relatively speaking, the Spree have downsized. For The Fragile Army, DeLaughter and wife/co-leader Julie Doyle pared their joyous horde down to 24 members from 28 and built their songs around the rock-oriented core of the group's vaunted live performances. In fact, the trilling flutes, imperial horns, and bombastic strings-- even the fleet-fingered guitar fills-- of energetic first single "Section 22 [Running Away]" sound almost incidental to this ordinary power-pop love song. If the Spree's cover of Tripping Daisy's "Sonic Bloom" on last year's Wait EP showed how DeLaughter's themes have stayed consistent, it also illustrated that a choir and orchestra are often embellishments rather than essential elements of his songwriting. Ho-hum rocker "Section 23 [Get Up and Go]" reiterates the point.
Not so the title track, which needs all the bigness the Spree can muster (and the "Karma Police" piano of David Bowie cohort Mike Garson) to bring its anti-Bush "Bohemian Rhapsody" onto Broadway: "It's time for you to lose your excitement," the choir repeats, whatever that means. But DeLaughter's biggest breakthrough on The Fragile Army comes with "Section 29 [Light to Follow]", which establishes the record's overarching subject-- "love in a mixed-up time"-- and explores new sounds for the group, from electronic beats to an Air-like bass groove, achieving spacey ambiance instead of anodyne catharsis. Rich with guitar harmonics, "Section 31 [Overblow Your Nest]" is another of DeLaughter's more emotionally sophisticated songs and also an existential assertion of self: "I want this world to know that I'm alive," goes a surging, ELO-like chorus lyric.
That individualistic mantra is at odds with Spree's egoless concept-- many voices joining as one to accomplish any goal, overturn any war-monger. "Together we're all right," DeLaughter intones on uncharacteristically bittersweet "Section 25 [Younger Yesterday]", still sounding like Wayne Coyne. "When we're both together, I know that we'll be just fine," the Spree chieftain adds on a lush slower song, "Section 26 [We Crawl]". Brief instrumental opener "Section 21 [Together We're Heavy]" echoes the title track to the group's 2004 album of the same name (minus the section number). In interviews, DeLaughter has been talking up utopia. "It's a goal I think we all have deep down," he tells Paste.
Pop's most famous utopian, John Lennon, picked up Sir Thomas More where Karl Marx left him: No possessions, and no religion, too. Echoing Lennon and Ono's refrain "war is over (if you want it)" on finale "Section 32 [The Championship]", DeLaughter sings, "Someday the world will be one if we try." Fine, but one what? The Spree frontman's vision shares the unitarian communalism of other "perfect societies"; on the other hand, President Bush's post-9/11 stranglehold over national policy relied on unity, too. We don't want campaign platforms from our rock stars, but it'd be nice if their idealism extended beyond well-meaning peer pressure.
For Plato, a "just society" doesn't even have music. For Todd Rundgren, Utopia were a three-keyboard 70s prog-rock band. As for the Spree, it's hard to believe any utopia would sound like symphonic-veneered rock music-- a style some classic-rock mainstays adopted back when their forward-looking peers were developing new genres. The Fragile Army is an all-out orchestral and choral assault for optimism in a turbulent era, but only infrequently are the Spree's songs as memorable as their numbers (and changing wardrobe).
