Under The Rock

Universal Truth: "It's harder to make a record that doesn't have a whole lot on it," says Alun Woodward (right) of The Delgados.

One for the Song Sluts

by Michael Pelusi

Two Sundays ago, The New York Times ran a piece by music writer Kelefa Sanneh titled "The Rap Against Rockism." Within, Sanneh portrayed two apparently divergent perspectives among music critics and fans: the rockists, who stodgily proclaim rock—particularly of the male, white, guitar-slinging 1960s variety—superior to all; and people like Sanneh, who delight in the immediate, blithe joys of modern Top 40, be it teen-pop, hip-hop or Nashville crop.

A naive reader of the piece could easily misinterpret that these were the only two maps available for surveying the crowded, Times Square flash of popular music. Among the forlornly forgotten in the reverse snobbery of Sanneh's article were, to cop a phrase from musician Jon Brion, the "song sluts."

Song sluts prize those 4-minute bits of perfection where melody, arrangement and lyric coalesce to take you on a little emotional jaunt you couldn't get to any other way. We probably have some record-collection overlap with the rockists—most of us, after all, had our lives saved by the likes of the Beatles and Neil Young when we were small. But we can think Bruce Springsteen and U2's elaborate postures of significance are a bit much. And like those polyglots on the other side, we love pure-pop radio gold. However, an occasional Britney Spears single is usually a mere aperitif before moving on to the umpteenth spin of Blur's Parklife.

Song sluts get no love. When Morrissey came back earlier this year, who did you think of? That's right, the weirdos with the gladiolas. You never gave a passing thought to those who simply take pleasure in the Mozzer's Wildean wit and wordplay, did you?

Occasionally, though, a musical group of some promise will throw song sluts' pleasure principles a much-needed bone, by releasing an album that strives to ratchet the state of songwriting up a bit. Fairly recent examples include Wilco's Summerteeth and Rilo Kiley's The Execution of All Things. These were albums that told stormy tales via seductive melodies, quixotic verse, thrashing drums and guitars, and big, bright blotches of keyboard noise. And they're fun to listen to.

Add to that short list Universal Audio (Chemikal Underground), the fifth album from Glasgow's The Delgados. It has all of the above ingredients, executed expertly and almost flawlessly. The funny thing is, Universal Audio is actually, in one way, a step back in ambition for the band.

Their previous two albums, The Great Eastern and Hate, featured armies of string and horn players, even a freakin' choir, and garnered the quartet a fair bit of acclaim and attention for their grandiose vision.

But that can only go so far, singer-guitarist Alun Woodward explains over the phone. "We were bored making the same record," he says, characterizing the orchestrations as "an itch that we eventually scratched with Hate."

"We wanted to challenge ourselves," he continues in his thick Scottish brogue. "And in many respects it's harder to make a record that doesn't have a whole lot on it." Nevertheless, the band still makes sure the urgency of Woodward's "Is This All That I Came For?" and the classic indie-pop of singer-guitarist Emma Pollock's "Everybody Come Down" brim with unexpected filigrees of keyboard or backing vocal that manage to sound just right. By shifting the band's arrangements away from the regal, Woodward says, "you spend more time working on the vocals, working on harmonies and spend a lot of time working on the guitar parts as well. It just forces you to think in a different way." The band doesn't skimp on quote-worthy, rueful lyrics either. On "Get Action!" Woodward sings: "Every single person who has told you that you couldn't/Lives in fear that you'll achieve the things in life they think you shouldn't."

Universal Audio hangs together (and around) remarkably well. The segue from Pollock's ever-sweeping "The City Consumes Us" to Woodward's rousing "Girls of Valour" remains spine-tingling even on the 10th listen. Woodward says that the band's rhythm section, bassist Stewart Henderson and drummer Paul Savage, deserve the nod, as sequencing the band's albums is their department. "Em and I, we're fairly stupid when it comes to it, to be honest."

Kelefa Sanneh warns against unduly worshipping the album format in this age of the iPod, but, ultimately, what's the point of painting yourself in one corner to spite another? If the pop landscape can make room for Ashlee Simpson (but for how long) and 50 Cent, surely there's a place for The Delgados as well. The album is called Universal Audio, after all.

The Delgados play Mon., Nov. 15, 8 p.m., $10, with Crooked Fingers and Cynthia Mason, First Unitarian Church, 2125 Chestnut St., 800-594-TIXX.