Sometimes writing music reviews sucks. No, really. I mean, the occasional free CDs are nice, and the exposure to hundreds of different artists is great, but there are times when putting the pen to the paper (figuratively speaking, anyway) is a real chore. I find that it's hardest for me when I don't have much nice to say. Believe it or not, not all critics relish the moment when they get to tear a band's latest album limb from limb.

For this review, I find myself in a particularly undesirable situation. You see, I really like Sloan. They're a great band. Their last three albums were sparkling jewels in the power-pop coal mine of the 1990s. The quartet rebounded from a botched deal with Geffen in the early 90s to become one of Canada's most popular bands, founding their own successful label in the process. Of course, the political nature of the music business has kept their music criminally hidden from American ears, but that's beside the point right now.

I'm here to talk about Sloan's sixth album, Pretty Together. As the rating at the top of the page suggests, it's not a terrible album by any means, but I'm really not all that thrilled with it. After 1999's amazing Between the Bridges, I was expecting nothing short of the best pop album of the year from these guys, and, suffice to say they haven't delivered it. Perhaps that's not really fair, but I'll start actually talking about the album now by stating my biggest disappointment.

Sloan can rock. I know they can, I've heard it. So why is it that when they attempt to rock out on Pretty Together that they consistently fall flat? Three of the album's thirteen songs are big, riff-driven stompers that go absolutely nowhere-- the first time I've ever heard three clunkers on a Sloan album. "If It Feels Good Do it" opens the album, declaring, "This song is dedicated to you, because this song is for people who know what rock is about!" From that shaky ground, it proceeds to make a clever musical reference to Aerosmith's "Back in the Saddle" before launching into a vaguely familiar, fuzzy riff. The chorus is catchy enough, but Brenndan McGuire's production suffers an unusual lapse, allowing the vocal break in the middle of the song to get terribly muddy. From there, the song doesn't really go anywhere else, either, instead slowing to a sludgy ending.

The song's two hard-rocking counterparts, "Never Seeing the Ground for the Sky" and "Pick It Up and Dial It" are similarly muddled. "Pick It Up" doesn't even have much of a melody, opting instead for awkward rock and roll posturing and dragging the labored riffing out well beyond the song's viable running time. "Never Seeing the Ground" stumbles along on pounding, disjointed blues riffs and also fails to deliver melodically. After the first verse, the sing-speak just gets annoying.

The good news, of course, is that there are ten other songs on the album, and while a few of them aren't quite up to Sloan's usual standard, there are some especially impressive highlights. One of the things I've always liked about Sloan is the fact that the band is comprised of four skilled songwriters who each possess a distinctive melodic voice. Their democratic approach has always lent their albums an appealing eclecticism, and, though more of the songs on Pretty Together feel like collaborative efforts than before, each member still gets a chance to shine.

Jay Ferguson (he's the one with the fragile, high voice) pops up with the gorgeous, spare "Are You Giving Me Back My Love?," a quiet acoustic song that conveys the frustration of not knowing where a relationship is going, and has a loungy, almost Hawaiian feel that recalls the Pernice Brothers' "Cronulla Breakdown." Bassist Chris Murphy also takes a turn with quieter material on the excellent "Life of a Working Girl," a reflective ballad about a woman taking a job like the ones most of us have: passable, but unfulfilling.

Usually, Sloan's albums are packed with potential singles, but this latest effort really only offers one real standout: the marvelous "The Other Man." The song takes the side of the third corner of a love triangle-- the one who proceeds despite the fact that he knows he's destroying a pre-existing relationship. "You know he's not the one for you/ But that's no fault of mine/ He knows I'm a friend of yours/ But he doesn't know I've crossed the line/ I know you've got a man in the picture/ But it hasn't stopped me yet/ We've all been in one situation or the other we regret," goes the opening verse, before one of the band's trademark harmonies carries the sterling minor-key hook deep into your head.

Despite these and a handful of other moments, though, the overall feeling of the album is that it's, well, pretty together, but not as solid as it could be. Sloan simply seem to be trying too hard on some of these tracks, instead of allowing their natural melodic gifts to take hold. I still look forward to the band's future with high hopes, but for right now, the present isn't quite as bright as the past.

-Joe Tangari, November 29th, 2001