The Bravery Albums (2)
What The Critics Say
Like many of-the-moment bands, the Bravery know that yesterday's trends are today's trash. And, like the band's former sparring partners and fellow new wave revivalists the Killers, the Bravery move away from the style that made them famous (or, at the very least, incorporate new sounds into their music) on their second album. Unlike the Killers, who cross-pollinated their love for Bruce Springsteen, U2, and the mythic American West into the rambling but intriguing Sam's Town, on The Sun and the Moon the Bravery try different ideas on for size, but don't commit enough to make them completely convincing. The band spends a significant chunk of the album trying to be as serious and earnest as they were stylish and giddy on The Bravery. On "Time Won't Let Me Go," they adopt a more mainstream rock sound, ditch the synths, and even name-drop Bryan Adams' "Summer of '69" in the lyrics; "The Ocean" delivers strings, acoustic guitars, and all the other trappings of a formerly fun band getting too serious for their own good. Worst of all is "Tragedy Bound," a song about loving a damaged woman that has questionable lyrics like "I'm starting to suspect she likes the abuse." Elsewhere on The Sun and the Moon, the band delivers competent pop songs that fall just short of being truly memorable; "Bad Sun," which could pass for a Dandy Warhols B-side, is the best of the bunch. In between all of their attempted makeovers, the Bravery return to their bracing, '80s-inspired sound, albeit with sleeker, slicker production than on their debut. And while "Every Word Is a Knife in My Ear" is melodramatic and "Split Me Wide Open" is pure Cure pastiche, this is still the sound that the Bravery seem to feel the most, and do the best. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
The Bravery's self-titled debut is a slick twist on '80s new wave and post-millennium modern rock. Those who've followed the Killers, stellastarr*, and the like will surely pounce on the Bravery's luscious synth-driven pop. The 11-song set, produced by the band's frontman, Sam Endicott, is playful and confident, unlike the stressful production of the Killers' Hot Fuss. Sure, obvious influences (Duran Duran, the Smiths, the Cure) carry the weight of this album, but it's without haste. An overcast backdrop dresses the trashy hints of love and desire, and cocksure moments such as "Public Service Announcement" and "No Brakes" showcase the Bravery's swagger with style. Endicott goes from sounding like a Robert Smith copycat ("Tyrant") to a dirtier Julian Casablancas ("Out of Line") and maintains a focused, fashionable dance sound. "Unconditional" soars with a sly guitar/keyboard two-step while "An Honest Mistake" saunters like classic New Order with its dark-hued mechanical energy. The Bravery isn't sonically mind-blowing, but the new millennium new wave revival remains intriguing. This New York five-piece makes an interesting effort without it coming off contrived and dishonest. Get ready to shake your hips! ~ MacKenzie Wilson, All Music Guide
