Keane Review

Published in this week's Lumberjack.


British pop band Keane have evolved from album to album. Their debut Hopes and Fears used only piano, drums and occasional bass. Their second LP, Under the Iron Sea added guitar riffs, organs and effects pedals. Their newest album, Perfect Symmetry finds the band tossing in annoying synth sounds and monotonous background vocals. Once past that, it's pretty much the same-old, same-old you expect from the trio, which is a relieving and good kind of familiar.

Keane's Under the Iron Sea was an attempt at a concept album, but the scattered notions didn't really stick with the diverse pallet of songs. Perfect Symmetry seems to present a better underlying theme with almost every song about drowning or swimming in wreckage, which are metaphors for the human condition and romantic relationships. Basically they're just echoing the lyrics from Radiohead's "Pyramid Song "I shake through the wreckage for signs of life," sings lead singer Thomas Chaplin. "I dreamed I was drowning in the river Thames; I dreamed I had nothing at all." If any progress Keane has made is good, it has to be the lyrical content.

The first track is a tune called "Spiraling" that at first sounds as if the disc was microwaved. Each chord warbles between the backup vocals, which sound like Alvin, and the Chipmunks. This is their attempt at being original, and while irritating at first, the song quickly fades into familiar territory. This antagonizing sound is patterned throughout the album, crowding out the actually decent tracks such as "The Lovers are Losing" and the album's title track "Perfect Symmetry.”

Other notable tracks include "You Don't See Me" and "Black Burning Heart,” songs that retain the minimalism that made Keane good in their early days. Unfortunately, Symmetry is too unbalanced to maintain Keane’s former decency.

Day Forty Three: Shit List

I am officially a journalist*. I want to carve the word into my arm and then everyone will know. They will also know I am self-destructive and that could be good or bad, but at least it's honest.
(*I don't count the Lumberjack work I did as journalism. I don't know why, besides the obvious. It really only got me this internship with the Citizen.)

This is one step toward one dream. The biggest question my internship is supposed to answer is "DO I REALLY WANT TO DO THIS WITH MY LIFE?" I don't want to answer early, because this has only been one day, but so far, yes. Get back to me when I've had a really tough day and we'll see if I want to work through this til I retire.

Anyway, this work is pretty easy and fun. I work from 11AM to 6PM, meaning I get to sleep in a little and work less. I get paid the same and all I did today was write. I did about 7 or 8 feature stories. At Financial Resources, I was given all the shit jobs that no one there wanted. It's the same here, only I don't mind doing them. I'm trying to be Mr. Brightside, I guess, or maybe really, I just don't know what's real anymore.

I sat at some ancient computer that has Windows '98 on it and sent the files to a server far, far away. No spell-check. I was sitting next to a poster that said "IS THIS GOOD FOR THE COMPANY?" My co-workers are vulgar, dirty, realistic, genuine people. And because I'm the intern, they're shedding all this career wisdom on me. I like everyone I work with.

Most of the stories I wrote seemed kind of boring and . . . old. For example, I wrote up a piece celebrating of some random couple's sixtieth wedding anniversary that was in May. If the feature I wrote goes to press tomorrow, it's still two months late.

I also got to write up the DWI (Driving With Influence, instead of 'Under' like it should be) shit list. A police record of everyone who was arrested for drunk driving gets published in the paper so as to embarrass and ruin the reputations of hundreds of people. Wrong or right, what did I care? It's a job. I don't know anyone around here. So I got to put my name under it. And under my name is the label, CITIZEN INTERN.

I like that. Citizen Intern automatically makes me think of Citizen Kane which automatically makes me think of Jimmy Kane and then I think of Citizen Insane and I just feel really rebellious inside, when really it's two separate words. I'm making a big deal outta nothing.

I also got to write the crime log, which is somehow separate. NAU's paper 'The Lumberjack' has a crimelog and it's written so badly it's tragic. Altho not the worst, here is an awful example. Read the line that says, "It is suspected the suspect. . ." Almost as classic as "Today's News TODAY!"

Writing the crimelog for myself was refreshingly the most boring part of the job, but many of the 'crimes' were hysterical. People were hitting bears, deer and moose with their cars. Someone stole gas, a motorcycle, even a headstone. Unfortunately, I forgot most of the others.

I get a free paper everyday, so I can save all my precious clippings and move up this demented media ladder. I'm trying to think of some newspapers I would one day want to work for that don't suck. Maybe someplace in Chicago or Portland or wherever the Washington Post is.

I feel filthy and tired and sick.

I'm mailing you a body.