IN REVIEW: Finger Eleven - "Five Crooked Lines"

 

I didn't hold out much hope for the sixth Finger Eleven record (seventh if we're counting their 1995 record as Rainbow Butt Monkeys, which I'm more than willing to); after a few solid records, they finally caught a break with acoustic ballad One Thing in 2003, which (in my humble opinion) set them on a course of self-destruction. Hear me out: for their first post-mainstream success record (2007's Them vs. You vs. Me), Finger Eleven sought to build on the success with more ballads (I'll Keep Your Memory Vague, Window Song, Talking to the Walls, Change the World) and, most notably, one out-of-left-field attempt at trendy dance-rock (Paralyzer). The strategy worked; Paralyzer became their biggest hit, they earned themselves another gold record and, by the time 2010's Life Becomes Electric was released, they seemed to be completely out of ideas. Lead single Paralyzer II Living in a Dream failed to connect, as did half-baked attempted lite rock hit Whatever Doesn't Kill Me (the latter peaked at #63 in Canada - ouch). Many fans, like myself, lamented just how far from their roots they'd drifted and, while I never expected them to play heavy alternative rock forever, they seemed to be uninspired or, worse, chasing trends.

A long look in the mirror and a five year studio silence followed the lukewarm reaction to Life Becomes Electric, and it turns out a hiatus and a new drummer were just what Finger Eleven needed to remind them that they were a rock band. Gods of Speed finds the band hitting the ground running, locked into a groove and performing with a confident energy they haven't put to record in over a decade. The album rarely lets up, which is all the more surprising considering just how toothless Life Becomes Electric was in places; when they're not outright rocking, there are often heavy, fuzzy grooves that more vividly recall Monster Truck than Hedley (that's a line I thought I'd never use to describe any band). Even in its quietest moments, like closing track A New Forever, there's a heaviness in tone and mood that prevents it from playing like a desperate attempt at airplay.

Perhaps most impressive about the album's execution is that, even as it consistently rocks, it very rarely resorts to blatant rehashing of past glories. Save Your Breath is the only song that hits that mark a little too closely, but it's so good at reminding me of The Greyest of Blue Skies (still my favourite F11 record) that I'm letting it slide. A few good listens to the record reveal far more inspiration than we've seen on past records by the band; there's the panoramic space rock crunch of seven-minute(!) anthem Come On, Oblivion, the glam stomp of the title track, the sour post-grunge of Blackout Song, the psych-rock leaning Absolute Truth and the throbbing power pop of Sensory Eraser, among a host of other textures. 

The one thing (pun intended) that seems off about Five Crooked Lines is that, with all of these influences and explorations, Finger Eleven aren't distinct enough as a band to filter all of these sounds in a way that makes them their own. The songs sound good and are performed well, but this band has tinkered and fussed over their sound so much over the years that they don't really have any hallmarks. That may send cynics off wagging their fingers and slagging this album as derivative tripe, but I applaud the effort; the upside of not having a true signature sound is the freedom of trying just about anything and, if Five Crooked Lines is a bit of a hodgepodge, it's because Finger Eleven may have been just a bit too inspired. I'll take that over a bewildered band that's run out of ideas any day.

July 31, 2015 • The Bicycle Music Company/Universal

Highlights Gods of Speed • Save Your Breath • Come On, Oblivion