I’m beginning to think Medications can do no wrong. Whether it’s long classic rock riffs and solos, late 90s indie or mathy pop, they have a strong, coordinated sense of melody. In the five years since the last Medications record, something changed. The songs are less complicated, but more dynamic. The flow of the album is more together and solid. Medications, as a band, took a break from trying to outplay themselves and decided to put out a pretty straightforward rock record. It’s not so surprising that three overly competent musicians could make this work. It is, however, surprising that it works so well.
The difference lies in the song structures. Instead of tight, rigid lines between bridges and choruses, they meander a bit more. The solos last longer, the vocals interplay more, the light, airy feel missing from from the noisier but brilliant former releases is replaced by, well, fun. This album really doesn’t feel like work.
Instead, Completely Removed feels like the points have been proven, now it’s just time to kick ass. It takes a lot to make me stop thinking so critically about an album and admire the personality of it after a pair of listens. But this entire process (aside from a broken ipod and no time to write reviews) has been so pleasurable that I almost don’t want to spoil it. I don’t want to criticize this record, so I am reticent to tell people about it. If I do, I just send a song and say, I like this.
How could I not, though, mention the light horns behind “Postcards,” the brilliant lyrics of “Home Is Where We Are,” the alt-country backbeat of “Country Air” or the slow, simmering brilliance of “Brasil ‘07?” I can’t go without mentioning that every song is a stand-alone gem while the album still flows like water downhill. This album is a tributary that gets bigger and better as it rollicks loudly down the mountain. It’s a beautiful testament to how rock music should be made, yet it is not self-aware enough to admit it. Too much metaphor? See, I’m rambling. As “Tame on the Prowl” suggests, this album is, “Breath filling lungs.”
Completely Removed is near-perfect motion in eleven equal parts. Not too many albums can claim that. Still, the musicians would admit the album isn’t saving anything, claiming dinosaur status or making any changes to the music scenes in D.C. or anywhere else. I don’t want it to. I just want to have a beer and let the album go. I want to stop talking about it, to tell you the truth. Damn all these metaphors. I should have just kept this review simple. I should have said what I knew from the second I put it on.
I like this.