Pete Yorn - Nightcrawler
Pete Yorn may have sauntered off of the path for a brief spell, but this spin around his block shows that he's back on the wagon with a head of steam backing him up.
It's not often that you can figure a live album into the creative growth of an artist, but with Pete Yorn's Live from New Jersey, that's exactly what happened. After confronting swaths of mass indifference and even a handful of disappointment with his sophomore disc Day I Forgot, New Jersey was less the sound of a guy putting out a stopgap live record to bide his time, than the sound of a guy running back to his home turf to regain his bearings. It was the sound of a guy loosening up, chatting up the audience, cracking wise during breaks in songs, and smashing out a rich, confident set that reaffirmed why he made us stand up and take notice in the first place.
Yorn's third and newest studio set, Nightcrawler, is the fruit of that creative resync, a record that finds him settling back into that groove we heard first time around, and even tossing in a few curveballs for good measure. Day I Forgot wasn't perceived as a sidestep because it was lacking in spunk or musicality, it just sounded more like the product of a guy who was on his twelfth record rather than his second. The talent was still peeking out from under the hood on top-notch swoonery like "Come Back Home" and the gorgeous "Crystal Village," but as a whole it just felt nomadic and unconvinced of its own importance.
Nightcrawler, to the contrary, is focused and consistent, and while it won't reinvent the rock wheel, it's not intended to. The spooky, claustrophobic opener "Vampyre" seems an unusual choice for a first track, especially in light of everything that follows, but the crescendo leading to its booming finale dispenses quickly with any jitters or misguided notions of an album-long freakout of left-field indulgences. The straight-ahead "For Us" (with svengali super-genius Dave Grohl manning the drums) and the arena-sized, Zippo lighter special "Undercover," formally introduced to the world after being conspicuously tucked onto the first Spider-Man soundtrack, lock in squarely on Yorn's stock-in-trade, the earnest troubadour with a soft spot for a power chord. Those who reveled in Live from New Jersey's crisp, punched-up arrangements will have plenty to eat up here.
Yorn drops in the off speed pitches on "Same Thing," with its drum machine and warbling synthesizers, the New-Waveish "How Do You Go On?," which marries a skittering, hyperactive rhythm to a staccato guitar line, and "Georgie Boy," with a rolling bassline tacked alongside a sleazy dance-rock beat nicked right out from under The Rapture's noses. He doesn't stray far from the well, though, keeping the traditional rock/balladeer paradigm largely front and center with his warm tenor as the anchor, as "Maybe I'm Right" and the Butch Walker-produced "Alive" attest. His contribute to the Warren Zevon tribute album Enjoy Every Sandwich, "Splendid Isolation," is also included and blends in with nary a blink.
Sure, he might be devilishly handsome and talented enough to drive more ordinary folk to fits of mad jealousy, but it's tough to resist Nightcrawler's inviting charms for too long. Pete Yorn may have sauntered off of the path for a brief spell, but this spin around his block shows that he's back on the wagon with a head of steam backing him up. It's no mistake that he's covered Junior Kimbrough's "I Feel Good Again" on other records, because you can feel it here. It might just be enough to keep all those Pitchfork-wannabe wonks engaged for now. Even if they'll never admit it to your face.
(Columbia Records)