Indie rock has often had an uneasy relationship with sex. While some bands in that realm are capable of carnality and seduction, many would rather let the sonics do the work, and lyrically, it can be tough to reconcile base sensations with music that prides itself on its intelligence. In this context comes Omni, a record of lite-funk trappings and lyrics about the pleasures of the flesh that would be sketchy enough as a debut from a band trying to get that Maroon 5 money. But for a veteran band like Minus the Bear, newly signed to Dangerbird Records and known in the past for knotted, prog-spiked populist indie, it's a move of baffling awkwardness.
You confront that awkwardness from the first second of lead single "My Time". It's overproduced as hell, filled with all manner of electro doodads and backmasking effects, but it also boasts an immediacy and pop smarts heretofore unheard from the band. Unfortunately, that directness applies to the lyrics as well, and they simply cannot be ignored. During the verses, Jake Snider cops a parody Greg Dulli pose ("you taste like sweet wine... sweat rolls down your thigh") while the hook plays out like a straight-faced version of "puttin' in work" babymakers like Death From Above 1979's "Sexy Results" or Flight of the Conchord's "Business Time". As with most of Omni, the issue lies in the incongruity of the delivery. You don't need to be a soul-papa belter in order to talk about the passion, but Snider's vocals never simmer, smolder, or steam. Instead, they just kind of lay there like a rumpled polo shirt, adding a creepy dimension to the keg-hovering come-ons.
At least those fare better than the midsection when Snider changes his focus to chronicles of debauched nightlife. With its thinly-veiled references to cocaine and illicit blowjobs, "Into the Mirror" is nothing short of an attempt to write the American Apparel set's "Life in the Fastlane", but once again, Snider's fugue-like state makes him sound like a disinterested outsider instead of someone invested in his story.
Minus the Bear boasted enough technical proficiency in the past to make the "prog" tag stick without making chops the foremost priority, but they mostly straighten up and fly right here with only the occasional waka-chika rhythm to throw things for a loop. Seeing as he helmed similar brass-ring grabs from Manchester Orchestra and the Whigs (as well as My Morning Jacket's Evil Urges), you figure the band knew what they were getting into when they tapped Joe Chiccarelli to produce. Omni does in fact have the pop and sheen that would make the most anonymous of 1980s corporate rockers proud. But for the most part, the combination of drop-D riffs and antiseptic production conjures a grunge band covering the Police.
And yet, in a weird way Omni is actually kind of admirable. Jessica Suarez expressed disappointment here that 2007's Planet of Ice was neither mission statement or monstrosity, that the time had come for Minus The Bear to dare to be great, even if it meant risking disaster. And credit Minus the Bear for aiming to be something than just another competent indie band. So, yeah-- I'd prefer Omni to be a good record, but there are good records everywhere. This is the sort of rare and spectacular clusterfuck that makes our music-consuming lives more interesting.
