War Tapes

The Continental Divide (Sarathan)

By Noreen Sobczyk
Published: June 16th, 2009 | 7:00am

War Tapes have remixed and re-mastered four songs from their self-titled EP and added seven new songs to The Continental Divide, their first full-length album. The band describes their sound as “heart-quaking doom pop,” but really, that’s just to avoid the “G” word: Goth. There’s no way around it — there are too many pained vocals and exaggerated lyrics not to call a spade a spade. So derivative is The Continental Divide, that it’s impossible for the seasoned listener not to hear echoes of the Cure, the Mission UK, or Bauhaus while listening to this album. Multiple moments on this record sound like a handful of other well-known songs, and after repeat listens, it becomes quite distracting.

The album’s first single, “Dreaming Of You,” is incredibly catchy, if not a bit “In Between Days”–inspired (The Cure). And it would have fit perfectly following the Modern English classic, “Melt With You,” on a mix tape. But this isn’t the '80s. What sounded fresh and innovative 20-plus years ago, now sounds rehashed. It isn’t that one can fault the band for sounding like an amalgamation of classic post-punk bands, but it’s difficult to take them as their own entity when they bring so little that is new to the table.

Redundant lyrics like, “Dead corpse that I call my girlfriend” (“She Lied”), and the whiny "Everything's my fault, everything at all" (“Mind is Ugly”) don’t help the cause. And how singer Neil Popkin manages to pronounce the word "ugly" with three syllables is a mystery best left unsolved. On the plus side, the effects-heavy guitar work, interesting bass lines, and stone-solid drumming are flawless. Little flourishes color the songs, but never seem “showy.” The members of War Tapes are accomplished players, and the production and arrangements are excellent. The instrumentals sound good, but the angst-ridden vocals and lyrics are over the top.

The song "For Eternity" actually falls into the spoken word trap. The only time that has worked in recent memory is M83's "Graveyard Girl," and that was tongue-in-cheek. When analyzing the song after repeat listenings, it makes you cringe like you might when reading poetry by a vampire-worshipping 16-year-old. However, “All the World’s a Stage” does posses an undeniable anthemic quality and a few lighter, waving moments.

Closing the album is an untitled track which is nothing short of abysmal. The amateurish plink-plonk of a piano is matched with the absentminded, childlike singing of bassist Becca Popkin. This effect, if intentional, is far less successful than that achieved by bands like the Cranes or Miranda Sex Garden. Given that Popkin is a classically trained pianist, one wonders if this song isn’t some sort of joke. This hidden, untitled track closing The Continental Divide should have been left undiscovered.

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