Second half salvages A Hundred Million Suns

The band's new set of tracks bumps less mainstream.

By Eric Dundon

Published Nov. 3, 2008

Snow Patrol is an uncanny pop-culture chameleon. No matter the situation, at least one song from each of the band's albums could fit into every episode of MTV's "The Hills."

Belittling the band's interesting lyrics, society has relegated the sprightly Irish band to teen dramas. There's a song for everything - a fight with a significant other, driving to the beach in a convertible or a night out with the guys or girls.

Take, for example, a song from Snow Patrol's second album, Eyes Open. "Chasing Cars" took the television world by storm, closing an especially poignant episode of "Grey's Anatomy" and appearing on "One Tree Hill." Ever since, Snow Patrol has hit mainstream America, amassing hordes of young fans. Snow Patrol's identity has since largely relied on television.

If Lauren Conrad or Patrick Dempsey took time to listen to and absorb Snow Patrol's fifth album, A Hundred Million Suns, perhaps they would think twice about extending the false identity of Snow Patrol. Instead of just being made for TV, the music Snow Patrol creates is made for waking up dreamily in the middle of the night to a steady rain.

The album's first moments open with what can best be described as an elongated hiccup. "If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It" sets the template for the rest of the album's first half. To Snow Patrol, layers must equal success. It's as if they got so excited to release a new album that they crammed their entire musical point-of-view into every song, which unfortunately comes at the expense of the vocals. Most of the time, the (monotonous) music overshadows to a great degree the message of the lyrics.

The Snow Patrol model is - in order of appearance - thrumming guitar ostinato, bass drum beat, vocals, cymbals and synth, climax with percussive interjections and quiet, but resounding, closure. Probably eight out of the 11 songs on the album follow this formula, to varying measures of success.

"Take Back The City," the album's big single, feels like a song meant for summer vacation - except this vacation is a road trip with a hyper sister who pesters you with incessant questions. The sheer amount of musical content in this song will be overwhelming to listeners.

After a couple of throwaway slower songs, A Hundred Million Suns is on the brink of blatantly boring. The album takes little risk, up until the midway point, choosing instead to stick to the dogmatic model into which Snow Patrol has plowed itself.

"Set Down Your Glass" finally ignites some adventure and interest in the album. A welcome reprieve from the headache-inducing electric guitar, the track infuses a more relaxed instrumentation, incorporating gentler acoustic guitars and a glass harmonica. From that point forward, Snow Patrol takes better command of the album, injecting a little adventure and some deviation from the model.

"Disaster Button" reverts to the form of the first half but is more tolerable than its siblings when sandwiched between interesting materials.

The second half of the album embraces the Snow Patrol of yesteryear, finally experimenting with chord structures and style. A jazzy brass statement, bursts of percussive activity, piano figures and experimental synth dot tracks seven through 11.

Snow Patrol seems most successful and talented when its members don't layer too much, sticking to simpler music and letting the lyrics do the wowing. By the last track, the band manages to salvage the album and even produce a few tracks L.C. would find suitable to accompany her glamorous lifestyle. But, hopefully, we won't ever hear another Snow Patrol track in another melodramatic Orange County setting.