Under the Waves is Pete Droge's fifth album and his second for his own Puzzle Tree Records label following three poor-selling major-label efforts. Droge is the sort of folkish singer/songwriter who tends to get called "promising" long after such a description applies; after all, one can only show promise for so long before that promise is fulfilled or must be considered to have been broken, and at 37, this artist would seem to have passed that point. Rather, he really belongs in another category, that of the artist who has had his shot and not succeeded, but who gained enough attention thereby to be able to sustain a minor career through the wonders of affordable technology and Internet distribution for as long as he cares to bother. Droge plays nearly all the instruments on this album full of slow-tempo, introspective songs, the lyrics of which, presented in an echoed murmur, may be about the vagaries of love or the vagaries of the artist's life, but most of the time are really just vague. "Never learned to be an artist, did I?," he sings in "Never Learned," which seems to be an assessment of his career so far. "I was one to let them call the tune/Though I look around, I'm never sure what I have found within my heart/I can dance while I sing/Knowing it won't mean a thing." Was he a sellout, he seems to ask himself, only to answer, yeah, maybe, who knows? But it's exactly this shrugging, what-the-hell attitude, coupled with the Tom Petty-meets-Neil Young tunes and arrangements, that has made for Droge's limited appeal. And that may mean that, on his own label, making his own records in his own studio (in which he is shown on the album cover), he may have found his level and a place from which he can continue to pursue his ambivalent muse. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
While Pete Droge's second album, Find a Door, was a more assured, accomplished effort than his debut, Necktie Second, it didn't find as large an audience as his first record. To his credit, Droge didn't retreat from the progressions of Find a Door on its follow-up, Spacey and Shakin. Instead, he follows through on the promise of his second record, turning in a confident, well-crafted collection of rootsy, rocking songs that have strong hints of folk, adult alternative pop, and alt-country. Even though his craft is maturing, Droge doesn't sound stodgy, thanks to a hard-rocking backing band that brings life to the music; it's the freshest album he's yet recorded. Spacey and Shakin lacks a single as flat-out catchy as "If You Don't Love Me (I'll Kill Myself)," but overall, it rivals Find a Door as Droge's strongest collection of songs to date. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Part Mellencamp, part Tom Petty (with some old-school Neil Young angst thrown in for good measure), singer/songwriter Pete Droge is probably one of the most overlooked of the modern-day Americana/rock/folk music movement. Releasing a solid debut with 1994's Necktie Second, he would receive a boost from the album's first single, the infectious "If You Don't Love Me (I'll Kill Myself)." However, by the time Droge got around to releasing his excellent follow-up, Find a Door, many of the players who had championed his debut had left American Recordings. Consequently, the album had a tough time finding a niche for itself at both radio and retail. And what a shame that is. Teaming up once again with Brendan O'Brien, Find a Door is packed with worthy songs. Leading off with "Mr. Jade," replete with Motown-style subdued horn arrangements, one is immediately blown away by the record's incredible, live-in-the-pocket production. Always a big proponent of cutting records as quickly as possible, producer Brendan O'Brien perfectly captures the band's loose sound by putting the snare, cymbals, guitars, and Droge's voice way up at the forefront of the album's mix. Following the Steve Earle-ish "Wolfgang," the artist slows things down with the lovely "It Doesn't Have to Be That Way," giving way to one of the album's best moments, the amazing Neil Young-inspired "Dear Diane." Although Droge tends to write with sardonic overtones, it's difficult sometimes to tell if the guy's kidding or if he's dead serious. In the case of "Dear Diane," there's no doubt as to the singer's prerogative. Metaphorically speaking, the song alludes to death and desperation as the singer pleads, "Dear Diane/Today was even worse/I want you to call out a reverend and a hearse/And wrap that rope/Right around/My neck." Later in the song he confesses, "The man at the station said your ticket ain't good anymore." Heavy stuff. The somber mood immediately lifts with another straight-ahead rocker, "Breakman," and the Graham Parsons-meets-Jayhawks strains of "You Should Be Running." Sounding like an end of the night conversation with a stranger, the album's next track, "That Ain't Right," is a Byrds-by-the-numbers workout. The album's title track, which sounds like the sequel to "Dear Diane," features some wonderfully understated keyboard work courtesy of O'Brien. The album is rounded out with "Out with You," the simple "Sooner Than Later," and the reflective "The Lord Is Busy." ~ John Franck, All Music Guide
Pete Droge's debut album, Necktie Second, finds the singer/songwriter following the footsteps of Tom Petty and Neil Young. At this stage, Droge might not be as melodically sturdy as either of his influences, yet he can turn out a charming piece of roots rock like "If You Don't Love Me (I'll Kill Myself)" without much effort. "If You Don't Love Me" isn't indicative of the rest of the record -- throughout Necktie Second, he's hunched over an acoustic guitar, singing sensitive, confessional songs. He's got a more distinct backbeat and a bit more grit than most singer/songwriters, but many of the songs fail to be really compelling, making Necktie Second a promising debut, but not a particularly remarkable one. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide