It's official: They've emerged from the garage. "Love, Hate And Then There's You" (2009), the latest from the Von Bondies, sees the band dive headfirst in the direction of the catchy TV theme song "C'mon, C'mon," leaving a bit of its soul behind. Though certainly upbeat and fun upon first listen, the album isn't accessible enough to make a big splash, nor is it nearly quirky enough to satisfy garage-rock aficionados.
Tracing the band's evolution is a difficult task, as its debut album, "Lack of Communication" (2001), while featuring the same lineup as today, sounds like it was made by a different group all together. Back then, songs were loud, uncompromising and varied in tempo. Singer/guitarist Jason Stollsteimer knew the difference between wailing and belting, using the former to perfection as he took the backseat to the driving rhythm section. The album was rumored to have been produced by Jack White of The White Stripes, who, whether directly or indirectly, certainly had a measurable impact on his fellow Detroit band.
While the 2004 follow-up "Pawn Shoppe Heart" held on to some of the attitude and darker tones of the Bondies' past, the band tasted a bit too much success with the popular "C'mon, C'mon" and seems to have reinvented itself in an attempt at another hit song.
Rather than looking to the White Stripes for influence, "Love, Hate" often sounds more like The Academy Is...; it features frequent attempts at pop-punk sing-along anthems with far too much time devoted to the chorus. Stollsteimer seems to have developed an ego, whereby he believes he's a good singer rather than merely an effective one. In the chorus of the opening track, "This Is Our Perfect Crime," the mixing is such that the guitars are barely audible under the many vocal layers.
The album's first single, "Pale Bride," is certainly what the band was aiming for. It's catchy, but not disgustingly so, and has plenty of room for (simple) instrumental breaks. The drawn-out words at the end of each chorus ("I don't care anymore") are sung by a choir, giving Stollsteimer a much-needed break and making the song sound, to the band's benefit, a bit like Bang Camaro. The song is relatively short on lyrics, however, robbing it of any potential staying power.
The album's production leaves much to be desired, ruining otherwise strong tracks such as "Only to Haunt You." The song is immediately dark and is based around a funky drum roll. Normally, such a song would be at least five minutes long, ideal for instrumental experimentation and solos. Sadly, the only guitar solo is despairingly tame and tacked in between two dragged-out sessions of the "Whoa oh oh/ Only to haunt you" refrain. It's not nearly catchy enough to be a hit, so the choice must have been made to make the album more coherent.
Certain songs make valiant attempts to go in different musical directions only to be watered down and sugar-coated in the mixing room. "She's Dead to Me," for example, sounds impressively like the White Stripes with its straightforward approach and frequent breaks. As if in an attempt to poke fun at this style (or at least to make it sound like a light interlude), a childish "na na na na" is tacked on to the chorus. "The Chancer" takes the moderately effective bright tones of the previous songs to the extreme, sounding like the Apples in Stereo with the sweetened chorus, "Hey now hey now/Take it to the other side/ You don't look so cool but you look so alive." If featured between slower songs, this could have been a perfect punctuation mark, but such songs are few and far between on the album, giving the listener an unwelcome sugar high.
"I Don't Wanna," hidden at the end of the album, is surprisingly strong. After sitting through eight attempts at pop anthems, the repetitive "oh oh" in the chorus no longer detracts from the sound, especially when the guitar section is so bright and energetic. Even better, it allows the listener to recover from the album's worst song, "Blame Game," which gives far too much space to the band's back-up singer, rhythm guitarist Kristy Hunt, who takes over the chorus, ending it with a disgustingly cheerful "hey!" She seems to be trying to emulate Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but the end result sounds closer to something off of a "Kidz Bop" record.
While the band's range of diverse influences makes "Love, Hate and Then There's You" an interesting listen, the heavy reliance on sing-along choruses and the lack of instrumental space leaves it lackluster at best. If the band had only relied on its own history as an influence, it would have made more of a mark.
