A lot has been made of David Pajo's quick descent into vocal-based songwriting, both on this site and elsewhere. To stress the point, Pajo didn't merely start to sing with Papa M Sings, he started to make his weak singing the center of his songs, and now that this experiment is several albums old and he is (arguably) more comfortable and powerful using his voice, the guitar still lags behind, completely underutilizing his sole strength. Pajo's latest album, and his first under his real name, continues that descent, and too often degrades into drab sonic wallpaper as this former guitar god of post rock tries to pull off equally tired lo-fi indie rock (although Paul Simon and - yikes - James Taylor also come to mind).
While I could accept an album of bedroom recordings from Pajo if there was more meat to it, too often the guitar playing and songwriting just isn't there. In "Icicles," Pajo plays the same simple strum over and over again and sings the chorus "if it makes you happy, if it makes you happy, if it makes you happy." While that chorus is trite, consider the previous song on the album is entitled "Baby Please Come Home." The doo-wop title isn't made better by the shitty electronics (Pajo admitting he's no studio wiz) and lyrics like "Girl, our love can't be denied, girl, I guess I'll have to say goodbye." UGH! Short album opener "Oh No No" is no better with a simple strum and drum machine twitter ping ponging between the channels.
Supposedly, the album's quiet, bedroom sound is due to it being written alone at night after Pajo returned from playing Early Man shows in Manhattan, and the songs are so understated and quiet because he was trying not to wake his roommate while composing. While obviously I have some problems with the album, this tone can be effective when more effort is put into the guitar and other instruments. "Manson Twins" is pleasant Sunday School folk with nimble picking and dark lyrics about "loveless love." The song picks up beautifully at the end with a soft drum machine rumble that pulls the tempo up a tad. "Ten More Days" is also pretty with a wonderfully melodic bridge and great use of organ to fill out the sound. Songs like these and "Lonesome Moan" make the album still worth getting for longtime fans.
Who would have thought David Pajo just wanted to gimme some indie rock? While this full length is Pajo's most disposable and forgettable yet in his vocal dabbling series, there is hope; he continues to explore playing in bands and is prepping the group Dead Child with Michael McMahon, Todd Cook, and Tony Bailey. Despite the letdowns in following Pajo through Zwan and his singing career, I still can't wait.
