Passion Pit And The Reverse Atomic Fireball: A Review Of Passion Pit's "Gossamer"

First off, I’m sorry. There are two contributors to my recent absence: Boston and my internship. That said, my visit to Boston will likely contribute an arts-related post at some point in the near future and my internship…well, let’s say that there’s some hope for a contributed topic in the future. (Unless I count Danny’s Fight Club reference as inspiration?) The point of this prelude is, of course, that I never write as much as I promise to. But, rest assured, Pueblo Waltz will live to fight another day!

— Taylor

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If candy-related metaphors are still fair game when it comes to talking about music (e.g. bubblegum pop), then I would have to claim Passion Pit’s sophomore album as a kind of reverse Atomic Fireball—starting off sweet, almost sickly sweet, before diving suddenly into deep melancholy rage. Think about that one for a second.

It makes sense once you look back to their 2009 debut album Manners, which dug into some pretty dark places despite the giddy, electronic sunshine that sprung from the speakers of every almost-hipster a few summers ago. Although you all probably remember, it’s worth the effort to recollect that, despite their precious surfaces, songs such as “Little Secrets” included lyrics like “you’ve caused all this pain / and you proudly shame / your whole family’s name” and “Moth’s Wings” explored the bitter familial accusations: “you’re just like your father / buried deep under the water." My point being, of course, that the album wasn't exactly all sunshine. More like an Atomic Fireball...er...the surface of an Atomic Fireball...or...forget it. Bad metaphor. Let's move on.

Anyways, that 'dark' quality is easy to forget when listening to Passion Pit, whose recent critical and commercial success in both the indie and mainstream worlds arguably parallels only that of MGMT and Vampire Weekend. But the glossy prominence Passion Pit has been achieved on innumerable college party playlists (my own included) and in TV/film programming (Gossip Girl, Life As We Know It, Big Love) makes it easy to forget that their particular brand of pop music follows the path trod by records like Wilco’s Summerteeth and The Lemonheads’ It’s a Shame About Ray. Those records, evidenced by Wilco’s delightfully clever title, toe the line between spirited pop music and distressed confession; they're not quite the sugary confections they make themselves out to be. (Like a reverse Atomic Fireball.)

None of this is to say that Manners was wholly unaccomplished as a record of 'melancholy pop,' but simply that people noticed it a little less than they should have. There’s a host of reasons that it didn’t quite work the first time out—one of them that comes to mind is the slightly silly criticism that songs like “Moth’s Wings” and “Sleepyhead” were too infectious, too danceable. The complaints, of course, are small, but Manners still remains the work of a band trying to find its proper sound.

Gossamer, on the other hand, is the work of a band who has started to know itself. Passion Pit brazenly strides along that weird divide between gleeful dance music and weary sadness—not curt like Dando, nor weirdly wonderful like Tweedy—but with a unique sensibility all their own. Simply put, this is a sharp batch of songs: catchy and consummately constructed. The songs on here are way sharper than anything on Manners. If Manners had one weakness that was easy to point to, it was the shapeless, half-assed set of lyrics that accompanied the strident dance-pop. You could argue on behalf of some of the images Michael Angelakos throws out there, but most of it is just bad poetry (from “To Kingdom Come”—“so now I hide in piles of princely orange peels”).

By contrast, Gossamer goes for the gut with the lyrics, from the opening verse of “Take A Walk,” which openly addresses one (or several?) stories of financial difficulty. The fourth line “I love this country dearly” might sound like an opening salvo on paper, but Angelakos’s voice stretches it out so that you can practically hear the impending ‘but…’ The uber-unhappy “Love Is Greed” scores points with the cynical question at its center: “If we really love ourselves, / how do you love somebody else?” He takes time with these lyrics, crafting some serious questions and insights along the way.

As such, the album is rife with signs that not only Angelakos is coming into his own as a songwriter, but that the band as a whole is figuring out how to orchestrate his compositions. Several tunes retain the big, bombastic choruses of Manners, but venture out into newer and more interesting textures during the verses, bridge, and intro/outro sections. There are hints of M83, rumors of the Postal Service, vestiges of ‘80s music à la Bon Iver’s “Beth/Rest,” and even a touch of Sufjan Stevens in the 33-second a cappella “Two Veils To Hide My Face” and the electronic squirts and squiggles in the background of “Love Is Greed.” There are textures and expansions and details that would have been lost under the veil of fuzzy electro-pop wall that is Manners. Kudos, Passion Pit—let’s see how many college party playlists I can sneak this one on to.


Listen to the full album on NPR's First Listen here.