Review: Panic at the Disco's "Pretty. Odd."
Panic at the Disco Take a Look at the Brighter Side of Emo
Jun 21, 2009
This was certainly unexpected. “You don’t have to worry ‘cause we’re still the same band,” Brendon Urie sings less than 45 seconds into Pretty. Odd., a less-than-reassuring statement considering the overwrought emo pretension of the band’s debut, A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out.
However, Urie’s proclamation is made in the midst of a Sgt. Pepper’s-style introduction replete with string section and an arena of cheering fans that segues seamlessly into “Nine in the Afternoon,” the album’s first single. (And would it surprise you to learn the whole thing was recorded at Abbey Road Studios?)
The listener is torn: The Beatles were, without question, fantastic, and their contributions to pop music are still considered, forty years later, revolutionary; Panic at the Disco (now sans exclamation point), on the other hand, have done pop music far more harm than good in their short career.
Yes, this was certainly unexpected.
Monkey See, Monkey Do
The band, though, deserves credit. If bands are going to ape anyone they may as well aim high and ape the best. Musically, much of Pretty. Odd. sits at the intersection of Electric Light Orchestra and The Fab Four.
Panic’s songs will never be accused of being underwritten, but the band fortunately has enough pop sensibility to make the bombast work. The aforementioned “Nine in the Afternoon,” for instance, is something like “Mr. Blue Sky” meets “A Day In the Life,” brushed here and there with Freddy Mercury-ish vocal touches and brass flourishes.
The music is a far cry from the band's archetypical earlier work, which, while catchy, depended more on juvenile dramatics to drive sales and quickly wore thin. Tunes like "That Green Gentleman" and "Mad As Rabbits" are no less catchy, but they play more like traditional pop songs and thus prolong their shelf life.
Pretty. Odd. earns its moniker; there are some genuinely lovely moments to be found. "Northern Downpour" and "When the Day Met the Night" (perhaps the album's best songs) are a pleasant back-to-back pairing, bringing to mind at times parts of "Wouldn't It Be Nice" and "Here Comes the Sun."
The Kids Are Alright After All
Most surprising, though, is the album’s complete lack of sad-sackery. There’s not an emo lyric to be found (“I would cut...” Urie begins on “The Piano Knows Something I Don’t Know,” but the listener is shocked to hear him finish the statement, “...my beard”).
Instead of wedding crashing and cuckold decrying, there’s a bright, bouncy fable about the sun and moon falling in love. Pretty. Odd. brims with lyrical and musical optimism, albeit a naive one, unbefitting traditional emo (well, the optimism, anyway).
There’s a hint of truth to Urie’s earlier statement. Though they’re still pretentious as all get-out (see: the album’s goofy name and song titles like “Pas de Chaval,” “I Have Friends in Holy Spaces,” “Folkin’ Around”), Panic at the Disco are certainly trying to put their ridiculous past behind them.
Nothing here is White Album material, but the end result is a decent pop album occasionally hampered by some pretty childish lyrics. One can only hope this sense of optimism is the future of the emo genre.
