It’s Not My Fault, I’m Happy– Passion Pit
The new album from Passion Pit seems like a classic case of the sophomore slump. Gossamer mimics many of the patterns of the first record without delivering them at quite the same level of energy. The production values are just a little bit higher, but not in a way that really makes you turn your head. And, most importantly, they don’t have a song that comes close to matching the hooks and the energy of “Moth’s Wings” or “Sleepyhead.” In fact, you can’t help but wonder if the higher levels of musical proficiency aren’t just covering up a bland re-tread of the original product.
After a couple listens, though, you realize that none of that stuff matters. This is a great record in large part because it doesn’t try to be anything more than it is. There is no one song with the huge hook to get all the hipsters bobbing their heads, no chorus that tries too hard to impress. It’s just 45 minutes of music that delivers perfectly on the promise of the album title. If ever there were gossamer music, it’s here.
The best example is “It’s Not My Fault, I’m Happy” which grows on me with every listen. It follows a pretty traditional song structure (verse/chorus/verse/chorus/bridge/chorus) but they just do it so darn well that you couldn’t possibly care. I’m a huge fan of musical transitions, and there is no more basic form of that phenomenon than the shift from verse to chorus and back. And this song is pretty much a textbook example of how to do it right. The verses stamp along at a stately pace, the choruses come in like a ton of bricks and just when the sweetness of the chorus risk overwhelming you they come back with the august longing of the chorus. Rinse and repeat. It’s stupidly simple, but it takes a special kind of genius to stick the landing.
Elsewhere, “Constant Conversations” is the much slowed down version of the same effect, where they get a chance to show off the vocal harmonies. “Cry Like a Ghost” charts a middle course, with a slightly woozy blend of candy and buzzing synths. “Hideaway” is the quintessential case of a song that could strike you as a knockoff of themselves if you wanted to be ungenerous, but if you turn a slightly friendly ear to it will reveal itself as a pure pop gem.
Even the weaker tracks deliver pretty well. “Carried Away” is mostly filler, but it’s delicious filler. “On My Way” is mostly buildup without a lot of action, but the bit that starts about two minutes in is plenty enough payoff. And “Where We Belong” wants to convey a sense of atmospherics that it can’t quite pull off, but still feels like a perfectly reasonable denouement for the record.
It would easy to write this record off, but it would be a mistake. The falsetto vocals, the sugary sound, these things make them seem just a little lightweight. But they’re increasingly revealing themselves to be genuinely talented artists with a deep understanding of musical texture and the power of music to redeem the pain of everyday life.