‘Sister Cities’ is Another Step Forward for the Wonder Years
It’s raining in Kyoto…
The Wonder Years might be the poster boys for the term “acquired taste” — let’s run through a few reasons people might have trouble listening to them. For starters, singer Dan Campbell’s voice (while technically sound), can grate on some people’s ears. In addition, the band’s lyrics are nearly always deeply depressing. They aren’t hopeless — which I’ll discuss later on in this review — but the idea of loss and a near-constant anger pervades most of the group’s discography to date. For anyone not interested in these themes, the band is a hard sell.
Now that I’ve gotten the caveats out of the way, it’s worth noting that I think the Wonder Years are an extremely talented band and I enjoy their music quite a bit. I discovered them in college, probably the perfect age to appreciate the angst-filled approach they use, especially since I glimpsed the emotional maturity that hides behind Campbell’s anguished delivery and lyrics. It also helps that the band has written some truly unique and excellent songs, such as “Passing Through a Screen Door,” or “Stained Glass Ceilings.”
Sister Cities is a welcome addition to the band’s catalog that might be their best and most cohesive effort yet. Campbell’s voice is much more accessible, and his infectious persona permeates every song on this album. The Wonder Years have always written great songs, but this album is their most consistent one to date. Despite the fact that it’s a little too formulaic in parts, I have enjoyed every listen to Sister Cities so far and highly recommend the project.
Every album the Wonder Years has released has at least two to three songs that stand out above the rest. While this often means that there is a bit of a quality gap between the best and worst songs on the release, it also means that the best moments will be especially memorable. Sister Cities is no exception. The best song is the closer, “The Ocean Grew Hands to Hold me,” but the first track, “Raining in Kyto,” and the title track are excellent numbers as well.
The first and last song from the album showcase the lyrical depth of each song. “Raining in Kyoto” is about the death of Campbell’s grandfather, a death he mourned while on tour with the band. In an interview with The Independent, Campbell said, “For us, that translated as a dark tense, pounding verse to match the rainstorm that we were standing in, so the rhythm of the song is pulsing behind you the whole time and building in intensity to mirror that image.” The combination of dark lyrics and pulsating verses fits the song perfectly, providing an excellent example of the band’s talent.
“The Ocean Grew Hands to Hold me” is even more powerful. Much less about specific events than the album opener, this song conveys a gradual build of maturity and emotional growth in the face of pain and sadness. It also crescendoes slowly, as many of the band’s album finales do. From a slow, measured beginning to a climactic, nearly-screamed ending, this song feels like an emotional journey almost on its own. When the final words arrive, they do so with surprising power:
I stopped blaming God
When you said you were sick
I learned to lean on the people who love me
When the sutures start to split
I trust in the current to pull you back in
I miss everyone at once
But most of all, I miss the ocean
Sadly, the album closer is the only song that builds in quite this way, which is a departure from the band’s earlier work. On albums The Greatest Generation and Cigarettes and Saints, songs like “The Devil in my Bloodstream” or “Stained Glass Ceilings” followed a slow-burn format that set them apart from the bulk of the other tracks. On Sister Cities, nearly every song follows the same verse-chorus format. It’s not a wholly unwelcome change, especially given the consistency of the album, but some of the band’s unorganized, aggressive, and intense nature feels more muted than before.
However, this is a minor critique at best. Sister Cities is easily the band’s most consistent album so far, and the overall evolution of the band is certainly in a positive direction. Campbell’s voice, delivery, and lyrics are far less abrasive than ever before, and the intensity the band delivers is still present on many of the songs here. Some of the band’s earlier albums were a couple of songs too long. That isn’t the case here.
I’ve been through some personal tragedy lately, and I’ve found music to be extremely comforting. When I turn to music while in pain, I don’t want happy pop songs that feel emotionally distant from what I’m going through. I want the kind of music that the Wonder Years write. Their songs cover distressing topics like drug abuse and death, but always with a kernel of hope at the end. I’ve written a lot lately about bands that have evolved and changed over time, but the Wonder Years have done so to a degree matched by few. Here’s hoping they continue to write good music for a long time.
