Many scenesters of the emo-pop persuasion might consider the Promise Ring demigods. You know?mythological, godlike creatures not quite divine, but still a step above mortal. Well, the Ring (as they are known casually to their fans) rode in on the emotional explosion of pop bands, when others such as Braid and Sunny Day Real Estate dried their tears and folded their handkercheifs. Neither discouraged by the collapse of brother bands nor slowed by the onset of a malignant brain tumor, they continued to churn out bubblegum emo. Yet on the band’s latest, Wood/Water, the Promise Ring pop its own bubble as they prove they are neither mythological nor godlike. Shall we discuss?
For starters, the band’s former label doesn’t even want them. After eight releases with Jade Tree Records, the Promise Ring have found a new home with Anti-, a subsidiary of Epitaph Records. Some might speculate that TPR got too big for their britches or developed a case of West Coast Envy. Instead, the Ring may simply have needed a change, and Anti- was able to provide them a tabula rasa of sorts. Regardless, Anti- invested in what Jade Tree would not: a semi-prolific band that has used one clich? too many while trying to maintain their adolescent boy naivet?, which the band pull off suprisingly well despite their receeding hair lines.
With the label switch also comes a change in genre: cdnow.com, for example, now tellingly labels the Promise Ring “rock,” as opposed to “alternative/indie.” The new classification isn’t hard to see, as Wood/Water is infinitely less reliant on original creativity than previous releases. Instead, the Ring apply the usual tools of “growth”: slow down the tempo, add a Moog here and there and try to sound like the Beatles. But instead, what they put on the table sounds more like theme music from Happy Gilmore (see “Stop Playing Guitar”). What’s more, they scam vocal tricks off Fred Durst and blues licks from guitarist Chris Thomas King. Sound ridiculous? It surely is, but that’s only half the problem.
Unfortunately all members of the Ring claim responsibility for the lyrics, so to cut down the lead singer would be satisfying but a mistatement. Emo lyrics in general are not normally praised for their poetic value, but these have reached an all-time low. Little Davey vonBohlen might as well be reading off his daily planner. From the band that made Cherry Coke the drink of choice among brokenhearted scarf-clad teens comes 12 songs that have less substance than the back pocket of Lou Reed’s 501 blues. Each song has the lyrical complexity of a middle school reader, as evidenced by the ABAA rhyme scheme of “Say Goodbye Good”, where vonBohlen rhymes “hey hey hey,” with “today,” “play” and “away.” And if this is supposed to be emo, then where is the emotion? Not that there was ever any real expectation of an emotional overture, but Wood/Water lacks any sort of rousing chorus.
While comparisons have been drawn to British beach marathoners Coldplay, the Promise Ring’s Wood/Water has about as much adrenaline as a sea gull choking on a six pack ring. After the fourth song into the record, vonBohlen sighs “I’m just happy you stuck around.” It’s up to you for just how long.
