It seems that now, buried deep within the first decade of the new millennium, originality is no longer prerequisite for an album to be good. After 50 years of development, rock ‘n' roll has found itself in a previously unparalleled season of recycled influences which artists often wear on their shoulders. This revival\ has produced a few fantastic bands, a few dismal acts and many which are just plain ignorable.
It seems unlikely that any review of Britain's latest commodities, Editors, will not include the words ""Joy Division"" or ""Interpol."" So there they are. The above-mentioned recycling of older bands is certainly not propagated solely by the music itself, but also by critics determined to stamp and homogenize rock music. It is admittedly a necessary evil, though in the wake of this, true talent can sometimes be overlooked.
And now that name-dropping is out of the way, let it be said that Editors plagiarize magnificently. From the first half of ""Lights,"" the opening track on Editors' fantastic The Back Room, we can already place the band: big, reverb-ey guitars playing shimmering minor arpeggios, passionate, precise vocals and bleak lyrics, all wrapped up in an atmosphere of supreme melancholia. There is just enough pop-polish to make it massively appealing and catchy, too.
The first few tracks bounce along very enjoyably, but it is only at about the halfway mark that the album turns stellar. ""Camera"" reaches awe-inspiring heights. Its wash of synths carry you off in a cloud, and then those guitars creep in, hypnotizing with their supremely rhythmic motion. The song is so beautifully bleak that it sends a chill down the spine, especially with lyrics like ""If we run they'll look in the back room / Where we hide all our feelings."" Then, easing out of the chorus, the listener feels etherized with a brief, sweet melodic run: ""I just close my eyes as you walk out.""
Towards the end, basking in the dissonance and the wash of instruments, vocalist Tom Smith lulls us towards the final, roaring chorus repeating: ""You fall from grace / You fall with such grace."" This sort of compelling juxtaposition is one of several ways that Editors shine lyrically.
The momentum and crashing drone of the guitars in ""Bullets"" make the song supremely energetic and—like many of the tracks on The Back Room—very danceable. On these tracks, Editors somehow make depression fun! Consistently, however, Editors reach their highest heights when they slow the tempo down. The soaring, moody final tracks, ""Open Your Arms"" and ""Distance,"" provide a grand sense of closure.
Rarely does blatant rehashing sound so fresh. With The Back Room, Editors' debut, it is easy to forget what came before and bask in the present. Ultimately, that's what all these new bands aspire to: to create something that is able to stand on its own. While few succeed, Editors have accomplished just that. They've introduced themselves to the world with style.
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