Getting the band back together is not a good idea. Late-career reunion albums long ago passed into the realm of Really Bad Idea, right up there with Jäger shots on New Year's. The past few years have seen serious stumbles from the Who, the Zombies, and Big Star, to name just a few of many dud attempts to revive the cult or popular brand and reclaim a little glory. The consistency with which these albums tarnish instead of burnish a band's legacy doesn't bode well for the Stooges, who've recently reformed for their first album since 1973. But what if a band has only a dubious body of work to its name, instead of a vault of beloved recordings? That's another story. The cameo-heavy Here & Now, America's first album in almost a decade, turns out to be... wait for it... a little better than expected.
It would have to be. In the early 1970s, the band had a brief moment in the sun with hits like "Sister Golden Hair" and "A Horse with No Name", lo-cal SoCal ditties that cribbed from Neil Young and inexplicably continue to haunt oldies playlists. They have an easy way with hooks and harmonies that must've sounded better 30 years ago, and their arduous touring schedule (they're constantly on the road) proves Dewey Bunnell and Gerry Beckley still have their share of fans. What they don't have, however, is a Raw Power or a Meaty Beaty Big & Bouncy or a #1 Record to compare against new material; they've only got a decent-selling Greatest Hits package and a handful of breezy light-rock oldies, most of which sound dated even on the recently recorded live disc that accompanies Here & Now.
Mind you, all the elements that make America so exasperating are here in droves. The melodies are unobtrusive, the hooks lack impact, and the harmonies sound distinctively soft-focus. The who's-who of indie-friendly musicians can't even liven things up: The gauzy production by Smashing Pumpkin James Iha and Fountain of Wayne Adam Schlesinger makes most of these songs sound indistinguishable, and Ryan Adams can't rescue the cliché-ridden "Ride On". Lyrics have never been America's forte, and while there's nothing to rival the classic line "The heat was hot" from "A Horse with No Name", Here & Now is riddled with groaners. Beckley and Bunnell still favor songs about how dreams are important ("Chasing the Rainbow"), love can be scary but rewarding ("One Chance"), and life is a hard road you have to travel (just about every other song). To borrow Joe Tangari's comparison, America are the Ed Wood of lyrics, and Here & Now is their Bride of the Monster.
So, how is Here & Now better than expected, besides not being "Muskrat Love"? Well, first there's the cover of My Morning Jacket's "Golden", featuring real live members of My Morning Jacket. (They pull the same trick with Nada Surf's "Always Love".) Removing the song from Jim James' reverb atmosphere and retrofitting it to a peaceful easy feeling might sound like a recipe for disaster, but Beckley and Bunnell are able to expand the original, subtly shading its meaning. Singing "Golden" at the end of a career, especially one that isn't as storied as those of America's contemporaries, deepens the song's sense of longing and makes its central question-- is it all worth it?-- sound all the more profound. More than just being the most recognizable song to indie listeners, "Golden" is the highlight of Here & Now because it's one of the few times that Bunnell and Beckley manage to say something substantial in a way that doesn't make you want to switch off your iPod.
Second, Here & Now is so modest that it's hard to muster any serious indignation over its flaws. It's nice-guy rock, a little disarming in its queasy sentimentality but ultimately harmless. In fact, the album's true strength is its forgettability: It won't make you reconsider their earlier material, which is a big plus, and it doesn't ask you to remember many of these new songs once they're over.
