It was once said of Picasso that he could draw a single line and everyone who saw it would know immediately that it was Picasso who drew it. Now, don't think I'm going to be so gauche as to compare Spoon to Picasso directly, but hear me out here: you can hear a simple, forceful drumbeat, a barked syllable, a quick strum of the guitar, or the crackling note of a dying keyboard, and immediately identify it as a sound created by Spoon. That's why they're such a great band-- they have the ability to stamp their indelible signature on the most atomic components of rock 'n' roll.
Of course, not everyone shares my pro-Spoon sentiment-- take Elektra Records, the label that half-released A Series of Sneaks in 1998, shortly before unceremoniously dropping the band from their roster. For nearly two years now, the band has floated around without a label, releasing only two singles and a compilation track in that time. But finally, Merge Records came to their senses and hooked the band up with a deal. Thus, we are graced by the presence of Love Ways, an EP recorded after their long-awaited third full-length, Girls Can Tell (which will be released early next year by Merge), but released now as sort of a "hi, remember us?" statement. Although one gets the sense that Spoon saved their best material for the full-length, Love Ways showcases the band's evolving sound and songwriting skills quite well.
Spoon's best work in the past has hinged upon their apparent deliberateness-- in the skeletal arrangements of the songs, in the placement of decorative sounds, and of course, in the band's playing. In this sense, Love Ways' looser vibe works both for and against it; it's proof that Britt Daniel can write great, catchy songs even when he's casually tossing them off, but it's also not quite as substantial as previous releases. Still, there are at least two classic Spoon tracks to be found here: "Change My Life," a spooky sigh of a song cut through with lightning bolts of guitar clang, and "Jealousy," a deceptively sprightly tune with a Beatles-esque bounce playing off a shimmery organ backdrop.
But even when they're not 100% on, Spoon can still polish the most tarnished cliches to a reflective glimmer. "I Didn't Come Here to Die" sports a pushy, twangy riff that hiccups just often enough that it doesn't get too repetitive. On "The Figures of Art," Daniel's voice is such that he can sing a cheap line like, "It's easier to eat a broken stomach than drink on an empty heart," and still sound heartfelt. Finally, there's "Chips and Dip," a doo-wop song without the actual doo-wops; the track seems to exist solely so Britt can sing the words, "Shuck and jive." Although if someone compiled a list of "Top 10 Words or Phrases We've Always Wanted to Hear Britt Daniel Sing," I guarantee "shuck and jive" would be on there somewhere.
I've tried to explain the greatness of Spoon to newcomers and nonbelievers, without much success; it's just that they have the indescribable "it" that 99% of bands sorely lack. It's the way the molten-glass strands of guitar shatter against Jim Eno's Ironman drumming, the way Daniel sings so lackadaisically from the back of his throat, the genuinely odd sound loops and warm, buzzy layers of organ. Love Ways may not completely deliver on Spoon's "it," but it shows that they haven't lost it, and that's pretty darn alright.
