Zach Rogue has made his musical fortunes writing about people that are just a little out of place, and that's what's made his music great as well: Rogue Wave's most beautiful tracks are those that feel like something's just a little out of place, like when the verse ends where you don't expect it to or the instruments that complement the rhythm sound like they've been adjusted just a little bit so as to be unrecognizably familiar. But on Asleep At Heaven's Gate, Rogue Wave's third full-length release and first effort for Brushfire records, it sounds almost as though the band has learned too much from success - things are continuing to fall into place, filling the gaps and erasing the strangeness that defined its first release, 2003's Out of the Shadows.
The band's shift to a new label hasn't changed Rogue Wave much. This album sounds like a natural progression from the Shadows' 2005 follow-up, Descended Like Vultures; the rhythms have grown heavier and more dominating, and the production, even more so than before, emphasizes the closeness and intimacy of the guitars. Rogue uses more backup vocals, too, spreading layer upon layer of soft sound over the drums. Although one can still hear his trademark velvet voice rising clearly above the instrumental parts, on certain songs, like "Chicago X 12," Rogue sounds like a different singer. It's part of what appears to be an effort to create some sleeker, more upbeat tracks on At Heaven's Gate, including the driving beat that opens the album on "Harmonium," the riffing electric guitar on "Phonytown" and the bouncy instrumentation of "Like I Needed."
The problem is not that Rogue can't write driven rock-pop hybrids; it's that he can't arrange them. Rogue Wave consistently overpopulates these songs with swishing guitar parts, mundane drum rhythms and backup singers doing nothing but providing atmosphere. They fail to appreciate the importance of silence and quiet to the climax of a song, the same way they fail to understand that roughness and the jagged edges are pivotal in creating a cathartic atmosphere, whether it be contained within a song or an entire album. Too much of At Heaven's Gate sounds the same for any of it to sound all that important.
The openings to many of these tracks are promising, with quirky instruments bantering back and forth to introduce the song's theme. But soon enough, Rogue Wave cannot leave well enough alone, and predictably the drums begin to pound away and the voids that would give simpler songs depth are filled with generic-sounding guitars. Whatever was original or authentic about these songs is not destroyed; rather, it is obscured by Rogue's incompetence as an arranger. "Cheaper Than Therapy" opens with Rogue's voice floating over a haunting organ line. But as the song progresses, the drums, piano, guitar and second vocal line cue in and stick until the closing minute. The continuity of the song is lost because the strength of the original parts is obscured in the melee between the guitar, piano and drums. It's not that the parts conflict - in fact, the distortion of any real meaning is even greater because the instruments compete over the same part.
In "Lake Michigan," Rogue brings the chorus to a crashing climax in the last 30 seconds of the song. But instead of deconstructing the parts from the top, or even letting a new layer of sound sing clearly above the chaos below, he simply adds parts until all the listener hears is the same music from the first three minutes, only louder and more forceful. And that's the main problem with At Heaven's Gate: Rogue Wave gives the listener nothing to chew on, nothing to adapt to even in the course of the album. The songs' flow sounds natural - so natural, in fact, it would appear that Rogue has put little effort into making these songs resound with listeners for more than two or three listens.
2.5 STARS
Now that you've read about it, listen to it. Visit www.roguewavemusic.com or www.myspace.com/roguewave.
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