We have a desire for our favorite artists to “progress,” a quasi evolution that can’t really be quantified or explained. Because as fans we have donated our time and money (and hard drive space), we expect a payoff of sorts for all of the diligence This of course is offset by fact that most bands best work is usually one of their first three albums, which we then hold as a standard that a band can’t recapture. Progress be damned.
The Decline of British Sea Power was a highly underrated album in 2003, and was a refreshing pace from the retro-centric acts that were permeating (and persisting in) the musical landscape. But as the title suggests, the band knew that anything they would do after that would be judged a pale imitation. Call it the height of arrogance, call it foreshadowing, but BSP understood that anything after this would be unfairly compared to “British Sea Power’s Classic,” as their debut proudly boasts.
Open Season continues on the same path set by Decline, down to the look of the album cover, trading in the gold-yellow background for a stark blue. There is still no other band making music like British Sea Power, though the first couple of tracks are dubious in their sound. “It Ended on an Oily Stage” reimagines “Remember Me” as a slow dirge, while “Be Gone” is “A Little Electricity” with a little less current. Yan
One element that is missing from Open Season, unfortunately, is the sharp, punk by way of Pixies edge that caught people’s attention. There are no “Apologies to Insect Life” or “Walking in the Beetroot Fields” on this album. The Kaufman-like drollery (releasing singles exclusive to the Czech Republic, a tour of natural history museums) that made them music media darlings is no longer evident in the music. “How Will I Find My Way Home?” threatens to break out of its restraint, but only does so sparingly.
Open Season makes up for Decline’s overriding acerbic wit however with an infusion of late ’50s/early ’60s melodies. To those who latched on to their devilish humor may not find that to be a fair trade off, but it holds up nicely. “To Get To Sleep” holds the classic Phil Spector backbeat over an equally nostalgic guitar sound, then opens nicely to allow Yan to wax his breathy vocals.
