Let's not proclaim the CD dead just yet. Just as there are certain types of music that sound better on vinyl, the clean-room sound of that nearly obsolete silvery disc is the perfect medium for certain styles mostly associated with the 90s alt-rock that coincides with the technology's heyday. It's not an across-the-board pairing, however. Pearl Jam were so into vinyl that they added scratches to Vitalogy. But Stone Temple Pilots: CD. Candlebox: CD. Hanson: CD. Fountains of Wayne: CD. The Smashing Pumpkins: CD (although I imagine they'd be particularly loathe to admit it). Those last three acts are all represented in the new group Tinted Windows. That's middle child Taylor Hanson on vocals. Former Pumpkin James Iha on guitar. Fountain Adam Schlesinger on bass. And on the skins! The one! The only! Bun! E.! Carlos! (Crowd goes same). The drummer is obviously the odd man out here: Not only is he old enough to be the singer's father, but Cheap Trick is old enough to have intimately influenced each of his bandmates, their former bands, and pretty much anyone they ever toured with. Also, Cheap Trick: both vinyl and CD.
The result of this collaboration is the kind of polished power pop that was popular and even a little edgy for a brief period during the previous decade, and it's hard to tell if Tinted Windows, with their power chords, studio-sculpted guitars, and terrible name, are hopelessly dated and irrelevant or simply nostalgic for a musical moment before CDs became technology's bitch-- right above cassingles and right below eight-tracks. I was a little disappointed that my copy wasn't sealed with one of those dogbone stickers, the residue of which would remain long after the death of the medium and even the death of me. On the other hand, the second or third best-selling tween act in the country is a power-pop act-- Jonas Brothers-- who take to the genre like a birthright and who really aren't so bad, as far as that sort of thing goes. Is there a market for the style or just for young brother acts?
Even if Tinted Windows are riding a revivalist wave, the group's self-titled debut is pretty unsurprising in its pop-rock format, and it may be cynical to think they've polished it up and sanded it down to make it as broadly appealing as possible. Songs open with a snappy riff; catchy choruses follow melodic verses; and the opposite sex is the main subject matter. "Kind of a Girl" is the first song on their new album, and arguably the best, showcasing Schlesinger's compact melodies and an interesting dynamic between his bass line and Iha's guitar squall. Spelling out each woah-woah in the lyrics sheet is a nice touch, and a reminder to say good-bye to liner notes. Unfortunately, those may be the wittiest lyrics in the song, whose title promises a character who's not entirely a girl, but just kind of a girl. Instead, Schlesinger, whose pop sensibility once seemed dead-on, writes like he's still on the That Thing You Do set.
Tinted Windows is best when the tempo is fast and the momentum relentless, which makes "Kind of a Girl" a strong leadoff and "Can't Get a Read on You" almost desperately fast. The highlight of "Messing with My Head"-- the real keeper here-- may be Hanson's performance, which showcases a cool falsetto yelp and subtle growl in his otherwise everyguy vocals. As the pace of the songs slow, the intensity flags and the album sags. The big, midtempo chords of "Dead Serious" herald a lackluster chorus, faux-breathless vocals, de rigueur guitar fanfares, and an egregiously unexcitable use of "hey hey hey!" Those are all Schlesinger compositions; Iha and Hanson fare worse in the songwriting department: the guitarist's "Cha Cha" is a grating Cheap Trick knock-off that should have given the drummer pause, and the singer's "Nothing to Me" grafts a pretty mean-spirited kiss-off to a pretty limp hook. But at least neither of them is responsible for the bass player's insipid montage rocker "Without Love", whose faux uplift is tempered with moldy pop clichés like "Without love the nights are so long." Sure, lyrics aren't as crucial as melody and momentum, but how can you sing along if you're always cringing?
Ultimately, the whole of Tinted Windows is so much less than the sum of its considerable parts that it's almost tragic. In playing to pop's imagined past, this quartet neglect the idiosyncrasies that made them such compelling individual artists: the inventiveness of Iha's solo work, the humor and specificity of Fountains, the exuberance of "Mmmbop", the sweet escapism of Cheap Trick in the 70s. If there are dollar bins in the future, that's where you'll find this failed debut.
