When your band's trajectory starts to resemble that of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, that's likely not a good thing-- hell, at this point, I'm sure the members of BRMC would even agree. Whether intentionally or unwittingly, though, Darker My Love are taking plenty of cues from them. Just as BRMC put out a decent debut (2001's B.R.M.C.) and a samey, not-so-decent follow-up (2003's Take Them On, On Your Own), Darker My Love's 2006 self-titled debut was a just-okay neo-shoegaze affair, while 2008's holy-shit-is-that-really-the-title 2 was a tepid sophomore effort that felt monochrome and dulled-over.
If the timeline holds true, Darker My Love's third album would be a stripped-down reinvention á la BRMC's own game-changer, 2005's Howl. Lo and behold, Alive As You Are, ditches the delay pedals, obscured vocals, and squalls of noise for acoustic guitars, sweetly sung harmonies, and open-road clarity. Just as their previous two efforts pilfered repeatedly from long-in-the-tooth veteran bands the Brian Jonestown Massacre and the Dandy Warhols, Alive As You Are mines the 1960's folk-rock canon with a near-dopey lack of shame. If the Dylan-esque vocal aping on opening track "Backseat" doesn't make you blush for these guys' sake, try the following cut, "Split Minute", which is basically the Byrds' "Turn! Turn! Turn!" sans any trace of the original's euphoric payoff.
After a supreme early demonstration of pastiche, Alive As You Are's back half reveals a capable pop band writing capable pop songs. Ignore the slow-drawled intro of "Trail The Line" and you'll find the best Lemonheads jangler that band never wrote within. "Dear Author"'s psych-out breakdowns are satisfying in a would-be Top 40 way, while "A Lovely Game" benefits from the record's clear-headed sound via its swooning vocal interplay.
Co-singers Tim Presley and Rob Barbato are capable vocalists, and the album's best moments, like the shifting ballad "June Bloom" and the spring breeze arrangements of "New America", rely on wordless expressions and nimble harmonizing to get the job done. They're far from good lyricists, though. "Split Minute" hammers home false truisms ("You are not you"-- dude, that's deep) while the mind is boggled when "New America" moves its lyrical concerns from shipbuilding(!) to, uh, this: "Spilt milk levee breaks on you". On second thought, maybe all that guitar noise was there before for a reason.
