When Third Eye Blind's eponymous debut album first hit the radio in 1997, it took only a matter of days for the band to become a household name among alternative and mainstream rock fans alike. Fueled by raw, anarchic musical and lyrical energy and a healthy dose of twenty-something angst, the album generated a string of massive hit singles, including such perennial radio classics as "Semi-Charmed Life" and "Jumper." In a music industry dominated by grunge and post-grunge sewage like Bush, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden — all of whom largely spent this part of their careers attempting to replicate Nirvana — Third Eye Blind's upbeat, deftly-produced pop styling was a welcome breath of fresh air.
Despite its meteoric rise to fame, however, Third Eye Blind's second and third albums — "Blue" (1999) and "Out of the Vein" (2003) — were considerably less commercially successful. While they were tremendously popular among the band's condensed and devoted fan base, each album sold far fewer copies than its predecessor, and the pair produced fewer recognizable radio singles combined than the debut album had generated by itself. With dwindling record sales and a departure from its original record label, Third Eye Blind's heyday seemed to be at an end, and the following six years saw no new studio releases as the band faded more or less into obscurity.
Released on Aug. 17, Third Eye Blind's "Ursa Major" is only the fourth studio album in the band's 16-year career. Originally scheduled for release in 2007, the album's completion was delayed for a full two years by band leader Stephen Jenkins' writer's block and perfectionism. The album is characterized by the same signature sound that has driven every Third Eye Blind recording before it: a blend of '90s alternative pop and fuzzed-out heavy metal riffs, backing Jenkins' semi-guttural, in-your-face vocals and dark, uncensored lyrical posturing. All of this is capped off by a pulsing, psychedelic lead guitar, with a tight and laser-like tone unlike the guitar sound of any other band past or present.
The lead single, "Don't Believe a Word," is reminiscent of the band's later hits like "Crystal Baller," while the intense, sexually charged lyrics of "Why Can't You Be" and the instrumental "Carnival Barker" both hearken all the way back to the band's self-titled premiere. In short, the album is perfectly consistent with everything fans have come to expect from a Third Eye Blind album, and they have broken their recording fast in comfortable style.
As delightful as it surely is to the preexisting flock of rabid Third Eye Blind devotees to see their favorite band in the midst of an apparent musical comeback, listeners must consider exactly why Third Eye Blind faded from the spotlight in the first place. The band's first album was tremendously successful because of its comparative novelty in the extant musical climate of the late 1990s. It was sharp, fresh and groundbreaking, conducive to both headphone listening and a little bit of head-banging at the dance club. It was upbeat and poppy when most major rock labels were only interested in perpetuating the grunge sound that had become so infernally pervasive since Kurt Cobain's rise to power. It was, in a word, different.
Sadly, history shows that novelty when repeated ad nauseum gives way to formula, and both of Third Eye Blind's subsequent albums strictly adhered to the same pop rubrics that had led to the band's early success. In the end, both "Blue" and "Out of the Vein" appealed to the fans who had been reeled in by the first album and were looking for more of the same, but the lack of musical innovation across releases prevented the band from expanding their fan base or recapturing the favor of the modern rock radio stations that had so adored them in the past. Third Eye Blind simply wasn't new anymore.
A new album on the coattails of a six-year recording hiatus, then, seems like a prime opportunity for self-reinvention. By broadening their stylistic horizons and diversifying their songwriting portfolio, Third Eye Blind very easily could have rendered themselves once again musically relevant. The fact that they opted instead to doggedly employ the same compositional conventions with which they began their career is a befuddling disappointment.
The key to sustained critical and commercial success, as has been demonstrated time and time again, is evolution: When a band refuses to progress, what started as a distinctive, signature sound becomes simply a cliché, and even the most dedicated fans will eventually drift away. "Ursa Major" is fantastically well-executed, tightly performed, brilliantly produced and almost totally indistinguishable from any other Third Eye Blind album. As a collection of Third Eye Blind songs, "Ursa Major" is decent; as an album, a standalone entity, it has no distinct character unto itself, and — especially in light of the absurdly delayed release — is ultimately a letdown.
More from The Tufts Daily
Dove Ellis’ stunning gothic patchwork of a debut
By
Sam Stearns
| December 8
The spy thriller as a geopolitical lens
By
Annika Pillai
| December 5



