Album Review: The Wonder Years - The Hum Goes On Forever

I know there's no such thing as perfection, but there are albums with such glaring flaws, it's hard to understand why I like them despite the shortcomings. Very few albums are going to be song after song of nearly flawless beauty. I understand that, and a lot of my favorite records absolutely have low points I would change if I could. But those are usually one song on a record, not nearly half the track listing. When an album fits into that half-and-half range, I usually tend to dismiss them.

But every once in a while I find myself still listening, even when I know I would rather not sit through half of the thing. Can the pull of the great half of a record be enough to make up for that much dead weight?

That's what I've been asking myself about this new album from The Wonder Years. My attention was caught by one of the singles, and since I have been in a rather emo frame of mind this year, I gave the record a chance. From the very first time through, it was clear to me this was a record of halves. There are the up-tempo rockers where the emotion cascades through the melodies. Those tracks are fantastic. Then there are the slower, droning songs, where finding a melody is nearly impossible. Those tracks are a drag.

I've often wondered what it is about those sorts of songs that appeal to bands, where they feel such songs need to be included on their albums. All of us who play an instrument have hit upon an interesting riff and played it endlessly until we got it in our fingers. I've never confused that with writing a song, nor have I thought anyone would want to hear that same thing again and again and again, ad nauseum. But that's what songs like "Doors I Painted Shut" and "Songs About Death" are all about. They both come across as tone-setters, but they are stretched out into full songs, and as such ask for far too much of our attention. Combine those with the slow ballads, and five out of the dozen tracks could be cut without missing a thing.

When the band puts their power and energy into things, the results are amazing. "Wyatt's Song", "Oldest Daughter", "The Paris Of Nowhere", and "Lost In The Lights" are big, slightly dirty songs that use pop melody and emo vocals to establish a human connection between all of us. They remind us whatever we are feeling, there are others going through the same thing. Music can be that arm wrapped around our shoulder we most need.

Then there's the closing "You're The Reason I Don't Want The World To End", which builds a cathartic ending from the small moment of finding someone's glove in the pocket of your coat. When things seem their bleakest, it's the little details where we can find hope, and this song is a lovely reminder of that. It works wonderfully as a release of everything that builds up through the record, and it's the sort of thing emo can deliver that a lot of other genres simply can't. At least when it's done well.

Those good songs indeed do it well, so much so I've written this many words trying to explain how the bumps in the road have the jolts forgotten when the horizon is in sight as often as it is. This is one of those interesting albums I know I shouldn't be quite as fond of as I am, and yet, I have found myself playing it every day this week. That's hard to ignore.