"The song converts and grabs you. The words relate and describe your life. The music is something you feel you wrote because it just permeates from your being. It is you. That lead guitarist is f*cking awesome. The bass pumps my heart and the rhythm moves the soul. Its anything but sleeping." ~Jim Brittnacher, Lead Guitarist for "Soul One."
This album benefits greatly from the rock-steady pound of Ryan Peterson. One of two remaining original band founders, Peterson explodes through every tune with breakneck energy. Part two of the rhythm section (Adam Seiler) trails him like a predator, tumbling bass lines across the beat foundation on songs like ":From This Star", a lament that burns menace over zigzag guitar lines, and "Stay", a stalking melody overhung with Nathan Smits' honest tribute to Kurt Cobain's (Nirvana) angst-ridden growl and Julian Casablancas' (The Strokes) apparent boredom in the company of a relationship gone sour. Peterson and Seiler rival even Nathan and Jared Followill (Kings of Leon) as a unique, electrifying rhythm duo. The atypical "A Ways Away" and "Well-Kept Note", thanks to riff-meister extraordinaire Brian Klika, bear the mark of a combined songwriting effort by Casablancas and jangling Peter Buck (R.E.M.). Fellow guitarist Kyle Klika's distorted chord choices distances West Coast Sleeping from comparatively cleaner melodic acts Franz Ferdinand and Snow Patrol, graciously bringing to mind the earlier art of Stone Gossard (Pearl Jam) and explosive parts off Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (Smashing Pumpkins). Speaking of which, stand-out "Campaigning" features the Pumpkins trademark bombastic fuzz barrage and, in the same breath, would not sound out of place on an Interpol album.
At times the record produces a permeating beauty with floating dirges like "Magenta" and the last and hidden track. At others - "Wasted," "Take It Back," ":From This Star," and "Regeneration," for instance - the lead guitar compels you along a roller coaster ride. And at still other times - "Well-Kept Note," "Stay," "A Ways Away," "Better Sound Regrets" and "To Save This Child" - you are wrenched back and forth between flair-filled riffs and curiously grabbing melody. And perhaps most surprisingly of all, nearly every song presents a grove unlike anything West Coast Sleeping has yet produced.
Though the album rocks hard, West Coast Sleeping is too anti-star to swagger, too self-aware to puncture the album's air of gravity. The band builds their success off angst fuelled lyrics, getting wild and loud whilst remaining controlled and tuneful and therefore accessible. West Coast Sleeping tackles weighty topics - abortion (To Save This Child), religion (A Ways Away), infidelity (Better Sound Regrets, :From This Star), power and greed (Campaigning), rigorous introspection (every song) - with an earnest zeal unmatched since Pearl Jam. Whether it is the timid verses of "Magenta" or the guttural snarl of "Take It Back", Smits - too indirect to be the next Eddie Vedder (Pearl jam), too direct to be the next Julian Casablancas (The Strokes), and too audibly passionate to be the next Michael Stipe (R.E.M.) - has learned the art of vocal adaptation and his talent burns bright. All the same, although he certainly is no mimic, he proudly wears his influences on his sleeve. And, more importantly, he wears them well.
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A brilliant response to the band's acclaimed (albeit obscure) debut, Pre-modes, Failures of Investing resonates as a cohesive attack of 11 songs. Where Pre-modes meanders through Monster-esqe (R.E.M.) fuzz and Incesticidic (Nirvana) distorted verse-hook-verse-hook-verse-hook design, Failures of Investing emanates clarity and stylistic vision. Indeed, each song is heavy with razor-sharp hooks and smarter repetition; not one follows another in arrangement.
An attempt at a more ethereal sound, it is the first West Coast Sleeping album mixed by a stalwart Marc Golde. Taking over for Steve and Jeff Bonney, Golde oversees a band trying to find its way. The fruit of their toil is evident in the intricate wisdom of lyrics and music as one. Failures of Investing is a concept album about philosophical matters in life: Man vs. His Innate Nature, Love vs. Greed, even Lover vs. Lover. The finished product shows a man who has gained crucial perspective on life ("Like a leper through this. Redirection choosing hesitation, can't you listen? My children it's upon you, leave assuming a way's away... a ways from here.") Perfectly complimented by chaotic instrumental melodies, first track "A Ways Away" pulls off an incredible feat by becoming a soaring elegy each bridge. By the second song the man (taking his own advice) voices his desire to begin life anew, to take it in a new direction, to find someone who will help him do so. Yet after finding such a person, he still struggles under the weight of the past ("Spinning again, it seems to adhere and stick through. To relieve this attitude and retrieve - this attitude and retreat: take it back, take it back everything you say, before we begin I say the same. I take it back, take it back everything I say before we begin to say the sane."). "The sane" is the path he yearns for, the untainted new relationship. "Wasted" is his attempt to test such a beginning - an awkward questioning of another's faithfulness to him in the face of an unbearable mistake - a mistake that has not even yet occurred. ("Don't know what this is. Trying to say it versed and it's left violently clear this intention's sawing my brain."). "Wasted" is a potential radio hit devoted to the innate dilemma behind trust. "Well-Kept Note" follows as an understanding, yet heartbreaking, reply. ("I'm going to let you alone... build, revolt, strive. A quarter's gone. A quarter's died. You'll live forever twice honed on the wind-swept prairies, trials senseless and the whispering there is.") The other understands the depth of his struggles with life (a quarter of which is gone) and the past (upon which he is honed despite her/his efforts) enough to realize that she/he wants nothing to do with it. The fifth track demonstrates his immediate response ("Can we make our way to missed illumination? Cushion, turn around, give up?), a ploy designed to convince the other to "Stay". His reasons revolve around warnings (Restoration lies: the start and simple repudiation leave you be to start anew."), desperate pleas to remember the other's previous affection ("You found divine you lost aside a way lined with sides stay, stay, stay."), a vow of fidelity ("I know this disheartening. Fight me, chide me, I'll stay, stay, stay.") and even a promise to lay down the past ("Drown the rest of us untouched. Consolation: it'll be returned clearer then."). Haunted, lovely, dark and somehow inspirational, "Magenta" is the man's last hopeless effort to win back the heart he lost. It seems he has given things time and yet is still wanting ("...would you see that ...into distaste I followed asleep, wait, I followed leads below? Hello again and if you're here the same then that is all I need to will it over. If could you feel the same as then, well, it's all on me."). He is convinced all he needs is a final negative response in order to forget. The response this time, "Regeneration", is annoyed ("So I've got to save your life? It's somber thoughts that spin, call off your raid. A future is all I ever was, you know that inside.") and angry ("As for me I don't really care. In passing I thought I'd offer help but don't take this the wrong way. I'm not going to save you, get well soon. ...bleed for me for regeneration."). The final 4 songs are stories of other relationships gone wrong: a man trying desperately to save his wife from depression (To Save This Child), someone stuck in a one-night-stand rut because he is no longer able to care for anyone (Better Sound Regrets), the twisted world of a power-hungry presidential candidate (Campaigning) and someone irate over being courted by the one who broke his trust. And the calm after the storm, and the only slow song on the whole album, a hidden track entitled "Placid".
Like all great bands, West Coast Sleeping's individual parts (Brian and Kyle Klika's ringing guitars, drummer Ryan Peterson's persistent thumping and Adam Seiler's unifying bass) are as interesting as the collective sound. These songs revolve around frustrated relationships, yet never come near to approaching anything that might resemble concrete insight. Yet, with Nathan Smits' self-assured, conversational vocal delivery, and the almost primal energy of the four guys backing him, attention shifts from the simply present lyrics to the raging wall of melody these guys bang out like it is their lifeblood. There is something in West Coast Sleeping's melodies that few other bands possess: they are immediate without pandering, relying on the instant gratification of solid, driving rhythms while maintaining strong but simple hooks that seem somehow familiar, yet wholly original. Somehow, they discovered the hidden mantra for longevity: focus on the music. Beyond that, it is hard to pinpoint what exactly it is about West Coast Sleeping that keeps me listening. All I know is that it is not easy to come by, and I like it. A lot.
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