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Years on the road and an excessive lifestyle had left frontman and figurehead Murray Lightburn questioning whether any viable future existed for The Dears, but following a prolonged break and a dramatic downsizing in personnel, they're back with Missiles.
Now down to a permanent line-up of just two (Lightburn and his wife Natalia Yanchak), and joined by a troupe of musicians loaned from other bands, the outfit admit - with a wry nod to the obvious cliche - that the preceding discord has spawned much of what we hear on the album.
Despite this, the collection starts promisingly with the warm electro of Disclaimer, a sweet, understated track typical of what Canadian and American lo-fi bands do so well. Single Money Babies overflows with ideas, from simplistic but structural bassline to the rise and fall of the instrumentation which eventually mixes in the form of a satisfying, building round.
Berlin Heart is a soft rock, country ditty that would be overlooked as fey if recorded - as it easily could have been - by The Feeling, and Lights Off has more than a passing resemblance to Radiohead's Paranoid Android. And at halfway in, the record begins to sound like a repetition of itself, usurping criticism of overt references to outside influences.
Crisis 1 & 2 only differentiates itself from the rest with a frankly annoying and unnecessary guitar riff that wouldn't be out of place on a drivetime anthems compilation. Missiles is an ode to 70s glam rock which somehow misses the mark, and by the time the organ and children's chorus of 11-minute epic Saviour kicks in it's hard to maintain any enthusiasm for the continuing, dreary strains.
Chronologically, it's as if Lightburn gradually lost the inclination to fight the feeling of pessimism that had dogged the band in recent years, caving in to the temptation to musically wallow. An indulgent end to an album which begins with promise, Missiles is not an accurate representation of what The Dears have to offer. --Keira Burgess
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Fans will be easily pleased; repeat listens reveal a subtle grower. New comers to the Dears are not really the intended market for the record, and so may take longer to love the smug couple, but should find plenty to enjoy nevertheless. Murray's vocals are soothing as ever, but don't quite live up to the former, Morrissey-level of lyrical dexterity with which comparisons were made. Awkward moments such as the high-school-like syntax ordering that allow tears that will not `quell' to be sung purely to achieve a rhyme, or the cringe-worthy mention of someone being `as cool as a cucumber' undo a little, but not much of the musically-sound, good work.
Murray does not appear egocentric, insisting on his input alone and as such, Yanchak's moment comes in `Crisis 1&2' where her vocals serve as welcome distraction. Murray allows the discreet guitar work and considered bass of the album to do a lot of the work for him, the rhythmic drumming in `Dream Job' also being pleasingly noteworthy, progressing the listen forward with each stroke.
This is a collection of refined indie rock tracks, which sit regally in the Canadian landscape from whence they sprung. Murray has hinted that this album might be the Dears' last, but he should rest easy knowing that if it is, it would not be with a whimper that he left us.
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