Damien Jurado And Gathered In Song: I Break Chairs

Two phrases on the cover of Damien Jurado's new album point to a change in direction: First, it's credited to "Damien Jurado And Gathered In Song," implying the presence of something sonically meatier than just the Seattle-based singer-songwriter and his guitar. Second, the disc is called I Break Chairs, implying that anger might be stirring in the heretofore wistful, melancholy Jurado. These assumptions are borne out on most of its 12 songs: Far more rocking and raucous than anything Jurado has done before, the album seems to mark the uneasy evolution of a powerful lone visionary into the leader of a good but unremarkable band. The change recalls Bob Dylan's scandalous 1965 move to electric instruments, but actually bears more resemblance to the career trajectory of another gentle singer-songwriter from the Pacific Northwest: Elliott Smith, whose last couple of albums have enjoyed a fuller sound at the expense of emotional impact. Like Smith, Jurado is more effective when he's hushed, and with a rock band behind him, he doesn't get enough opportunities to quiet down. The result is a collection of up-tempo rock songs that blend into one another, and while they're far from bad, tracks like "Big Deal" and "The Way You Look" subtract from the intangible power of Jurado's songwriting. That said, I Break Chairs has its effective moments: "Never Ending Tide," one of its quieter songs, strongly evokes Pedro The Lion, which is no surprise given that Pedro's David Bazan produced the album. "Like Titanic" suggests that Jurado has spent considerable time with Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska, while "Parade" finds the middle ground between Jurado's usual acoustic sound and the brasher ideas he attempts on the rest of I Break Chairs. It would be silly to fault the singer for stretching (or in this case flexing) his musical muscles, but he'd be doing his amazing songs an injustice if he continues to brick them up behind an unnecessary musical wall.