In a day and age filled with Projectors that are Dirty, violently splendid Battles, and Deer Hooves-a-thundering, I have a hard time being sympathetic to straight ahead, complacent, happy-humming pop. Which explains my reaction when I read a Misha MySpace post about their frenzied anticipation of Crowded House’s latest tour or their claim that Teardrop Sweetheart is “a cycle of happy/sad love songs with a new take on an old pleasure: the classic pop album.”
More than 12 times through this album, I’m still searching for that revolutionary new take on that old pleasure. I’d love to romanticize with Misha about the revival of classically good pop music, an extension of The Beach Boys, Burt Bacharach, The Beatles, or whatever, but Teardrop Sweetheart is not an album of 21st century Pet Sounds. Filled with 11 tracks that stay pretty close to the 120 BPM mark, the New York duo’s debut LP is a non obtrusive disc with a few redeeming tidbits mixed between tired drones of electronic apathy.
Produced by esteemed Kraut Rocker Mense Reents (Die Goldenen Zitronen, Stella, among others), his slick production fits the mostly safe songs. Drums merrily click along, synths offer square waves, and singer John Chao delivers a nonchalant and often uninspired performance. Exceptions include the opener, “Scars,” a catchy, childish feel-gooder, as well as the charming “Summersend,” a vocal duet between Chao and his model/mastermind cohort, Ashley Yao. Yet somehow, even these tracks lack the hooks and clever composition that make music of this genre memorable. The lovely reverb drowned guitar in “Summersend” begs a hook-driven chorus, but only drops out to be ignited again with the same chord progression. A cool Herbert-like intro to “Losing” is lost to mindless repetition.
However, there is something more unfortunate than interesting sections obscured by repetition and poor arranging. The parts of this album that stick are essentially the more obnoxious ones. “Anaconda” is an annoying faux-lo-fi Moldy Peaches number (you know, vocals too loud, casio cranking, ridiculous lyrics) that will make any discerning listener reach for the fast-forward button. When Chao, in a completely serious voice, announces his “Anaconda sitting in her Honda waiting for the backseat show/ She’s a go go go/ And I’m shaking my pom pom bon bons,” it’s more than a little hard to endure.
I do, however, think even Misha knew that “Cruelist Heart” would elicit a laugh from anyone with half a sense of musical humor. A ridiculous attempt at emulating Quasimoto, this track came out a lot closer to Eiffel 65 mixed with Shakira. I’m not really sure if the result of paying homage to Lord Quas in this context is still flattering or just so utterly silly that it's embarrassing to all parties involved. As if to apologize for their ridiculous antics, the album returns to its original happy-go-lucky tone, ending with “Trying.” Perhaps there is some gigantic and ingenious irony here, as Chao whines “I’m still trying too hard/ I’m still trying too hard,” before finally disintegrating into a sample of children frolicking.
It’s a shame that several promising ideas were squandered here; you can almost hear more complicated structures trying to emerge out of Misha’s frustrating debut LP. Maybe this is the best way to describe it: if you wanted to show your grandparents what modern independent rock has become today and don’t think they’re quite ready for Volta, perhaps Teardrop Sweetheart is your answer.
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