There is a certain comfort to be found in habit. My father recognized this while yet a young man; it took me much longer to recognize the same with regards to him. For years I attempted to give Harlan imaginative, heartfelt Christmas and birthday presents, only to be dismayed when I would find said presents months later resting atop bookshelves, uncracked, or in the bottoms of a cardboard boxes, prepared for storage. All Harlan ever asked for was v-neck t-shirts, old-man boxers, and the occasional pair of khaki "slacks." It took me over 20 years to finally acquiesce in this boxers and slacks philanthropy.

To some degree, we all prefer the familiar. This explains the stateside failure of the metric system and, to a lesser extent, vegemite. Like they say, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. I feel the same way about women's hair. For example, what heterosexual male has not been forced to answer this question: "Honey, how do you like my new haircut?" For your information, the "correct" answer is always "I love it. You look like Bo Derek." The large-nutted boyfriend, however, would reject appeasement and instead offer the following rejoinder: "You mean the one that makes you look like Billie Jean King? What the fuck were you thinking?"

If Damien Jurado's music were my girlfriend, I just might grow nuts and drop that bomb. The folk-pop of Jurado's prior three releases was honest, introspective, moody, sometimes peppy and sometimes heartbreaking. The new Jurado is none of those things. It is the long-haired girlfriend who gets mowed by Fantastic Sam's. Produced by Pedro the Lion's David Bazan, I Break Chairs consistently presents a more direct, aggressive rock tenor that is very surprising, and for a fan like myself, a bit disappointing.

Not disappointing at all, however, is the first track on I Break Chairs, "Paperwings." The rollicking pop-rock number has a gritty, foot-stomping edge to it, and a powerful chorus built around descending, overdriven bar chords (replete with Jurado yelping a high note way beyond his range). The tunes on the rest of the disc are recognizably Jurado, with sparse lyricism and Damien's characteristic melodic tools (like the guitar tracking the vocal melody, as on "Inevitable" and "Air Show Disaster"). Orchestration is simple and direct, with guitars at the forefront and bass and drums locked and solid. Jurado's voice lends a folksy, country timbre to the mix. Another high moment comes on the instrumental denouement of "Never Ending Tide," which balances a background of controlled feedback and drum machine with a wistful, reverbed guitar riff. "Like Titanic" blends pop-rock Damien with shades of the sweet, quaint, and thoughtful Damien of earlier years. It's sappy but rewarding.

By the end of the record, though, the songs begin to blend together (some even seem to blend into other albums, like "Lose My Head," which I swear I've heard before). Jurado was aiming for thematic consistency with the disc; he wanted a rock record, and that's what he recorded. Stylistically, however, there's little room for error when writing pop-rock songs, especially those with a creative approach as generic as this collection. Without a recognizable hook, there's very little to set a song apart. So songs like "Big Deal," "The Way You Look," and "Castles" just seem to take up space. They're well executed, with plenty of sonic punch-- they just lack that certain je ne sai quoi that digs itself into your subconscious.

When you learn to love something, the word "change" is inherently bad. It inspires a reflexive hatred regardless of the merits of the change. So maybe I Break Chairs was doomed from the start. But like short-haired women, I've warmed up a little to the new-look Jurado. It's not half bad-- it's solidly executed and very consistent. There aren't any obvious weak spots, and there are a few peaks. But in the final analysis, I yearn for the Damien of old. He just did what he did (the melancholy stuff, in particular) better than anybody else. To use the 9/11 vernacular, a return to normalcy would be welcome. Let's just hope Damien's got a little Harlan in him.

-Brad Haywood, March 21st, 2002