Phosphorescent: Here’s to Taking It Easy

The evils of classic rock are laid out beautifully on the radio: long guitar solos, brash body worship, clueless love lyrics that equate to unintelligent, formless limerick lines and dude-centric bullshit littering the American Dream. Sure, I like some classic rock, but for every Tom Petty there’s a .38 Special and for every early Chicago, there’s, well, a late Chicago.  I struggle to find intellectual balance in classic rock. One part of me just wants to rock out and bang my head for metal health, the other wants to analyze this thing that’s called radar love.  The middle ground, for me, lies within the beast itself: meaning.  Is there a purpose to the rambling and rollicking? Why is this solo here? Are these lyrics really worth the time to sing them?

Phosphorescent seems to care quite dearly about this issue.  Here’s to Taking It Easy is a rock record with lots of jamming and solos and a dude lamenting this life.  I love that about it.  It’s also a lazily-phrased record about the recognition of simplicity; the idea of letting ideas run amok. I love that about it.  It’s a record full and teeming, but just as a simple as it needs to be. Nothing is complicated, nothing is compromised. I love that about it.  The style is up-front and unapologetic, but the lyrics are seemingly background meanderings of a scattered mind.  The lyrics focus intently at times (”Hey, I’m light” is repeated for an entire song and it majestic, sweeping and brilliant) and tell deeply involved stories at others (”Mermaid Parade” has my vote for song of the year, maybe). I love this about it the most.

See, the problem with writing a classic rock record is the temptations. It must be so tempting to dumb down a lyric or a story to sound as far-out as Zeppelin or hold notes like Skynyrd.  It must be tough to not feel the comparisons mounting as you drive through each note, each chord, each phrase.  The weight of a million boring musicians weighs on Here’s to Taking It Easy. Yet, Phosphorescent sheds these demons:  the licks are tired retreads, the harmonies are easy to maintain, etc., but somehow they sound refreshing.  How does Phosphorescent take a formula tired as classic rock and inject it with life? If I asked that question to any band, they’d likely shrug and say they like playing music.  This may have been just one of those “magic” recording sessions that produced a great album or one of those times when everything “clicked” or “came together” at the right time. I don’t entirely believe in those situations, though I agree they might exist.

I could just say, “I guess it doesn’t matter why the album is awesome. It just is.”  Too often, though, I dismiss good albums with the “it is what it is” mantra.  Hell, once is too many.  Perhaps it’s the high stress I’ve been under, perhaps the need for the refreshing take Here’s to Taking It Easy provides.  Copping out is so easy for a musician– “Baby, I miss the way you look in that dress” often replaces the stellar line in “Mermaid Parade,” “I’ve got a new friend too/ and yeah she’s pretty and small,/ but goddamn it Amanda./ Oh, goddamn it all.”  The latter line represents a bitter resentment not often seen in the genre, one that has been missing for so long that classic rock has become, in and of itself, an ironic American ideal like renegade cops or car chases.  The line also cops out– there’s no “I love you, I miss you, baby,” just a sign of ill-content and a nice long solo-filled outro.  This album is filled with amazing lines and perfectly placed filler.  I could go through it all, but, for once I think maybe I don’t want to ruin something by talking about it so goddamn much.  Sure, that’s a cop-out, but I’d bet Phosphorescent would agree with me on this one.