Kings Of Leon-"Only By The Night"

Two of my best friends are named Adam. Growing up, one was reserved yet mysterious and had every girl he knew at his whim. The other lived and died by his classic rock and had no time for trends or ironically enough, growing old. Both of them have a serious distaste for the Kings of Leon. Yet these two remind me of the Kings in some twisted, symbolic manner. As these two struggle with getting old and the realized monotony of the lives they’ve created for themselves, I find it remarkably easy to liken these two to “Only By The Night,” the fourth full-length release from the Tennessean once-rockers. It’s easy to drop the same confession for “Only By The Night” as I would when referring to those friends; I wonder where it all went wrong.

Reviews of the leaked record pegged it as a “Slow burner” and “Mellowed out.” Phrases like that when referring to the Kings roughly translate into “The shit sucks. I’m really searching to say something halfway positive about the record, because I don’t wanna be the one dude who doesn’t dig on the Kings.” If “OBTN” teaches us anything, it’s that honesty really isn’t easy on the ears.

2007’s “Because of The Times” broke new ground for the band. They expanded their sound without falling victim to slow or mellowed tunes. Even the seven minute opener “On Call” sounded as urgent as an approaching freight train. But in comparison to the ninth track “I Want You,” (Which might as well be a Sugar Ray B-side) the song sounds like a Concord breaking the sound barrier. It’s just that boring.

“I Want You” as a track sums up the album quite well. The entire band sounds as if they’re just turning up and in a sense, holding back on their potential. Each of the Followills wait dutifully to be counted in. And when they do, it’s clear they’re just as bored as the listener. The solo is lifted from any number of Death Cab For Cutie tunes and the repetitive cowbell is a disgrace to any instrument, anywhere.

It’s also been said that “Hardcore” Kings of Leon fans will take awhile to warm to the album. Calling this an understatement would be like calling the album’s opener “Crawl” mysterious and brooding. When The Matrix deteriorates into a weekly program on the Space Network, the wanna-be trip-rock of “Closer” will serve as the opening theme without a hint of irony.

Is this the sound of the true Kings? Have they been fooling us all along?

“What a night for a dance/You know I’m a dancing machine” howls lead singer Caleb Followill in “Revelry.” Prove it Caleb. Do something shocking. If you’ve got the dance in you, why are you writing songs that make me want to take a nap on the bus, with guitars that croon? In searching for a new sound, the band sounds bland, unoriginal and in a sense, afraid. Afraid of being pigeonholed as dirty rockers? Maybe. Afraid of denying their true sound, a washed up ode to the women who’ve stuck by you while the rest of them have seen through your shtick? Likely so.

“17” doesn’t contain any of the personal angst a dude might encounter when considering fornicating with a youngster. Instead, Followill sounds whiny atop obvious guitars and chiming bells (Misuse of a possible cowbell again? Has the cowbell has become uncool? Not bloody likely) that on a good day, might even annoy a 17 year old.

What makes the Kings Of Leon a remarkable band is their ability to make you drum the shit out of the space in front of you with outright elation and never really be sure what you’re drumming along to or why you’re doing it.

There are moments of mystery on “OBTN” such as the swagger of “Manhattan” when the guitars linger for long enough in the background that they begin to blaze their own trail. You get the sneaking suspicion that Caleb Followill might have actually crept through some alleys himself instead of fawning over his good fortunes.

“OBTN” leads me to wonder if this is the sound of growing up and growing old? Is this the sound of the death of contemporary raunchy rock and roll once and for all? Is adult contemporary really the best chaser to a whiskey sour? This album would have you believe so.

The Kings sound like they’ve fallen over that fine line they always swaggered on; a shitty band full of old boys playing casinos, trying to get a piece of ass that followed them “back in the day.” For the Kings Of Leon “The day” was only 3 years ago. “Cool” sounded like “Slow Night, So Long” (2005’s “Aha Shake Heartbreak”) and “Revelry” sounds like Brian Wilson waking up from a bunch of cocktails served by a 90-year old John Fogerty. From here on in, they’re doomed to suffer from the worst fate in rock and roll discussion; “They’re alright I guess. The older stuff is way better.”

Admittedly, it’s Caleb Followill’s lyrics which drag “OBTN” down. They’ve become less of a night viewed through a haze of dope and whiskey and more of a morning void of regret. This is ironic and disappointing all at once, considering the band claims they consumed more alcohol during the recording of “OBTN” than any other record. Sadly, we just don’t believe you anymore.

But what is equally disappointing is how blatantly his bandmates have followed his lead. His sappy lyrics throughout the album prove fodder enough for the album’s closer, “Cold Desert”

“Jesus don’t love me/No one ever carried my load.”

If this is the record that is supposed to finally break Kings Of Leon into America and turn them into the next arena band a la U2, they’ll have no trouble doing so with lyrics like that. And true to form, the Followills are playing down to their ultimately estranged brother/cousin much like the rest of U2 does to Bono.

The whole sound of “OBTN” reeks of a montage on a prime-time hospital drama. It may seem like the most important thing in the world while it’s happening, but nothing is in fact happening at all. There’s the sound of someone striving for something grand, though it’s something we could have all had long ago. It’s the same reason I don’t really want to listen to both Adams long for the days gone by. Simply put, we just don’t want it anymore.