Lifehouse Albums (4)
What The Critics Say
Questions of identity seem to loom large in Lifehouse's mind. On their third album, they titled it after themselves, and now on the 2007 follow-up, they state Who We Are -- a declaration that could easily be a question depending on the punctuation and emphasis. Does this fourth album add up to a statement or question? It's the former, but that doesn't necessarily provide a fulfilling answer for doubters. The curious thing about Who We Are is that the trio still parties like we've just left Y2K: there's no garage punk, no emo, no spacy precious pop, no electronic flourishes -- it's post-alternative guitar rock preserved in amber. Guitarist/singer/songwriter Jason Wade contends that he's battling inner demons by wresting angels on the opening "Disarray," but Lifehouse don't hit as hard as they used to, since the bandmembers are starting to see the twilight of their twenties. Although there is little melody here, they're starting to mellow in characteristic fashion: with sincerity. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Three albums in and Lifehouse sound comfortable -- comfortable in their skin, comfortable working within the constraints of adult alternative radio, comfortable enough to deaden any possible lingering Creed or Stone Temple Pilots comparisons that might have plagued them after their first two records. Here, on their eponymous third album, Lifehouse is a rock band that doesn't rock. They strum acoustic guitars and sing earnest mid-tempo anthems and ballads, all given a slick shine by producer John Alagia, who has previously worked on records by the Dave Matthews Band, John Mayer, and Jason Mraz -- a collaborator whose very presence indicates how far the group has shifted from its early Brendan O'Brien productions. While some longtime fans will miss the band's harder side, Lifehouse sound, well, more comfortable in this setting, and they've made an album that's smooth, mellow, pleasant, and tuneful, a record that's designed to ease onto the AAA radio waves, where it will politely sit next to songs by Matthews, Mayer, and Mraz. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
In lieu of 2002's skate-metal and earnest AOR grunge, on follow-up album Stanley Climbfall Lifehouse are more at ease than most with Scott Weiland's swampmonster vocals and power-crunched guitar riffs. The band also knows how to dig a big chorus out of its thick dynamics when called for, a useful tactic reminiscent of Silverchair's first album and the big-gestured rock of Creed and John Cougar Mellencamp. Ron Aniello and Brendan O'Brien bring their recognizable hair metal production to the effort. ~ Dean Carlson, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
No Name Face, the debut release by Los Angeles-based Lifehouse, certainly proves the theory that less is more. The moody album contains pensive lyrics, soulfully sung by Jason Wade, which are supported by organic electric guitar arrangements. The simplified, but by no means simple, music aptly supports Wade's sonorous voice, which can be compared to Eddie Vedder, Scott Stapp of Creed, and Scott Weiland. At age 20, Wade, who takes songwriting credit, is a lyrical wunderkind, writing words generally reserved for his older counterparts. The album's theme is one of searching -- spiritually, personally, and emotionally -- and this is particularly in evidence on the tracks "Unknown," "Trying," and "Only One." Lifehouse makes a refreshing departure from other post-grunge, youth-oriented bands, who, for example, sing of one-night-stands, big butts, and the ills of society. Here, Wade revels in humanity, exploring and questioning its every nook and cranny. No Name Face benefits from the seasoned ears of Brendan O'Brien (Pearl Jam, U2, Stone Temple Pilots), who mixed the album, and producer Ron Aniello. Both brought Wade's vocals and lyrics to the forefront of the mix and, rather than overshadowing them with complex and overbearing instrumentation, kept the music appropriately in the background. It's an intelligent musical formula sorely missed in much music of the early 21st century, particularly in this type of music where songs are sometimes nothing more than a cacophony of screaming and effects-laden instrumentation. It really is a bit of a surprise to see such musical maturity hailing from such a young (in age and tenure) band. No Name Face should fit right in on rock radio. ~ Liana Jonas, All Music Guide
