A quick, tangentially related diss from our sponsors: In what twisted mockery of a universe does a label like V2 give Moby the green light to crap out opportunistic schlock like 18, while simultaneously cutting loose a band as talented and unique as 12 Rods? I mean, okay, the Rods' last product for V2, the ass-Rundgren'd Separation Anxieties, was a complete disaster from any angle, failing to satisfy the band's devoted fanbase and completely tanking on a commercial level. But isn't there something to be said for sticking behind bands with artistic merit, bands with the potential for greatness?
Sad, but true: In the end, the age-old struggle of quantity versus quality (or lack thereof) is the simplest explanation for this seeming judgmental error, and 12 Rods had to take the fall. Fortunately, the karmic scales are being righted even now. Though this band no longer has the resources and backing necessary to move the kind of volume an operation like V2 could provide, Lost Time is rich in quality, and if self-releasing the record is what it takes to get the boys back on track, so be it.
Bear in mind now that unlike some people, I wouldn't have you believe that Gay? was the sound of God's orgasm, nor did I find Separation Anxieties quite as terrible as it's sometimes made out to be. It seems to me that, on their previous outings, 12 Rods have served as a balancing act of sorts, combining a bewildering array of desultory styles and influences, sometimes successful and sometimes not. Their full-length debut, Split Personalities, nailed the ratio of spacy, synth-driven lounge jazz to sharp-toothed arena-pop, and when it was on, it was both incredibly original and stunningly catchy. Lost Time is that record's proper follow-up.
Here, 12 Rods juggle slow grooves, killer hooks, and stop/start changes with the same practiced ease that endeared them to so many in the first place. The manic, metallic sheen of Anxieties has been subdued and replaced with more of the organic production that marked Gay?, albeit of much higher fidelity. But most importantly, the band has rebounded from the uneasiness of Separation Anxieties to actually sound comfortable with their material again.
The tempo and mood of Lost Time change with virtually every song. The glitchy, slow-burning harmonies of "Fake Magic 8-Ball" dissolve seamlessly into a tower of guitar and complex rhythmic shifts to open "Twenty-Four Hours Ago"; trilling keyboards segue the bouncing power-punk of "Terrible Hands" into the laidback stadium rocker, "The Time Is Right (To Be Wrong)". 12 Rods can't seem to sit still long enough to commit themselves to any one monolithic sound, so they simply bend every atmosphere they create to their own inventive aesthetic. The result is entirely natural; nothing is out of place, nothing is overdone.
A significant portion of the credit for Lost Time's paradoxical feeling of simultaneous unity and diversity can be attributed to Ryan Olcott's vocals; his slickly treated delivery shows chameleon-like adaptability across all of this album's varied terrain. He croons, shouts and wails with equal proficiency, maintaining the record's remarkable pace without losing so much as a step. In fact, in many ways, Lost Time's consistency even gives it an edge over Split Personalities.
Now, admittedly, consistency often amounts to little more than a critical consolation prize in the art of album-building, something to be trotted out when other defenses fail to justify quality ("But, at least it's consistent!"). Not this time. Lost Time is an exceptional start-to-finish listening experience, and on top of that, it hits as high as, or higher than, any Rods album to come before, minus any of the awkwardness that occasionally accompanied earlier releases. In short, Lost Time brings 12 Rods back from the brink of irrelevance to thrive outside the corporate clutches of V2, and shows them poised to finally deliver on the promise of the early material they built their name on.
