Less than a week ago, Scott Avett, The Avett Brothers’ resident tortured artist and unwitting hipster-chic folk icon, did an interview with RollingStone magazine, in which, characteristically frequent philosophical meditations about death, life, pain, art and self-reflection aside, he promised unconventional song structures, intensely personal lyrics and a louder, bolder sound on The Avett Brothers’ new album, The Carpenter — which is due to be released later this year. Their new Seth-led single, “Live And Die”, while boasting characteristically effortless poetry and some delectably bold melodic hooks, however, just feels like a step backwards to the naked acoustic sound and lyrical content of their more reflective tracks from The Gleam and The Second Gleam EPs.
The Avett Brothers have this special gift of being able to transform the mundane and/or obvious into something poetic and sublime even. Here, the “where do you reside/when you hide/how can I find you?” and “can you tell that I am alive?/let me prove it” laments are particularly breathtaking. Unfortunately, not all their songs (as it is with this one) have the lyrical precision of standouts like “Paranoia in B-Flat Major” or “Murder In The City”, and hit-and-miss lines here like “we bloom like roses/lead like Moses” feel particularly exploitative and aimless.
Some of The Avett Brothers’ most touching songs (“Bella Donna”, “Shame”) songs are led by Seth Avett, and they succeed mostly because their quiet acoustics and melodies are as gentle as Seth’s voice, and this allows for the natural fragility and vulnerability in his voice to pack more emotional punch. The chorus here is easily the song’s catchiest, most joyous moment, but it has too much Scott Avett-esque boldness, and as a result it just feels awkward to hear Seth sing it.
Another problem with this song is that its climactic crescendo and production values in general are too polished, too deliberate — which is exactly what made the studio version of “Laundry Room” so horrifically lackluster compared to its electrifying live renditions. Ultimately, this song feels too familiar and too impersonal to match up to the band’s best songs, but at least it doesn’t feel like a filler track, and it is pretty damn catchy.
My opinion: get rid of Rick Rubin, follow up this single with a Scott-led explosive folk ballad, and all will be forgiven.
KevinScale Rating: 3/5
therein, Therin. 