Three years after the breakup of Grandaddy, Jason Lytle returns with
a collection of dreamy pop songs about nature and modernity, bathed in
quirky pathos. Sounding very much like a new Grandaddy album, Lytle’s
solo debut waltzes between tempered exhilaration and grandiose
gloominess with a winning bipolar swagger.
The album starts strongly. “Yours Truly, The Commuter” is a
rollicking reintroduction of Lytle, complete with a quasi-celebratory
chorus: I may be limping/But I’m coming home. “Brand New Sun” is
perfectly mixed with streaky synth blasts and fuzzy guitar, while
“Ghost of My Old Dog” (among the year’s best titles) is a rowdy salute
to loneliness.
Lytle has a tender spot for mellower moods. The trouble is that
Lytle’s slower songs often forgo rich arrangements in favor of dour
repetition, particularly without the balance of his bandmates. After a
bouncy opening trio, eight of the final nine songs hover between
mid-tempo and ballad. Luckily, Lytle’s songwriting abilities are strong
enough to sustain the downpour — evidenced on the orchestral
“Rollin’ Home Alone” or atmospheric closer “Here for Good.” Still, the
hushed “Fürget It” and the plaintive “You’re Too Gone” make a case
for revving up the guitars a bit more.
Not surprisingly, Lytle’s debut ultimately sounds like Grandaddy
stripped down: a musical landscape where synths flutter over Lytle’s
intoning vocals, while guitars are crunched or quietly strummed;
drumming, when employed, is adequate. It’s a nice place to visit
occasionally, but you wouldn’t want to live there. (Anti-)
