No matter what level of public exposure they work on, almost every band that lasts beyond a couple of albums eventually hits that point where they feel compelled to revisit their roots or return to the basics. Frequently, it's simply a chance for the band to try on something more comfortable after exhausting themselves with an especially prolific period or particularly ambitious record. The Hurricane Lamps fall under the latter distinction-- their fifth album, More, More, More, is an extremely basic and pared-down rock 'n' roll record, while their last, 2003's excellent Sing Me a Song, was a bright, ambitious pop record that lied a cut above any of their previous output in terms of sophistication and complexity.
More, More, More, on the other hand, announces itself as a different animal even before the shrinkwrap is off. The orange squares featuring close-ups of guitars and drums on the album cover's austere silver background imply a lack of adornment and pretense, and the recording backs that up with exceedingly simple guitar/bass/drums arrangements played and recorded with the offhandedness of a band with nothing to prove. Singer/guitarist Eric Tischler announces the Who-ish opener "Tell Me You Miss Me" with a mid-fi guitar riff, and drops frequent but economical solos into the mix-- he's always given a little time to playing lead, but here he's an axe-wielding maniac, eager to strut and let bassist Greg Bennett and drummer Jason Merriman whisk him along on their bare-bones current.
Part of what really distances this album from the two that preceded it (and unites it with their first two records, 1999's Tales from the Sink and 2000's You Deserve What You Want) is the raw, no-frills-whatsoever production treatment they've given it. Merriman's drums sound like they've got maybe two or three microphones on them and Tischler doesn't give his voice any protective armor like reverb or double-tracking, leaving it exposed in all its nasal, egg-headed glory. Every time I think his pinched tenor is perhaps a less than optimal vehicle for one of his sticky melodies, I try to imagine anything else working in this context, and it seems perfect again. On "Everything Must Change", he lays a strangely melancholy verse over a warp-speed arrangement, and it sounds like it could be your brother or your neighbor in the basement firm in the conviction that it somehow matters in the grand scheme of things.
But does it matter in that grand scheme? That's impossible to say, but when Tischler sings, "Sometimes you feel like you're drowning/ You're just dying for a breath of air/ Sometimes you feel you need some shelter/ And it's out there but you don't know where," it sure feels like it does, if only for a moment. And I guess that's part of the enduring value and appeal of simple rock 'n' roll like this-- it doesn't matter if it's heard by 20 people or 20,000 people, as long as it gets them all to forget their problems for a bit (even if they're singing along to someone else's problems). More, More, More hits on exactly that level, and while it's not my favorite Lamps record (that's still Sing Me a Song), it's still a strong reminder of the simple joys of a great song pared to the bare essentials and played with bucketloads of enthusiasm.
