Sleigh Bells Sidestep Subtlety

Sleigh Bells’ upbeat, anthemic music is the stuff of which teen movie soundtracks and product advertisements are made—and the noise-pop duo have indeed won some dozen film and TV soundtrack credits through their innovative melding of hip-hop and stadium rock. With their new release “Bitter Rivals,” however, the band create a work that, while composed of perfectly crafted individual tracks, lacks the cohesiveness and narrative structure that would allow it to succeed as an album.

The most accurate descriptor of Sleigh Bells’ sound would be “big”: the tracks on “Bitter Rivals” unfailingly create the impression of having been recorded in a 50,000-person arena. The title track features bridges reminiscent of the glory days of Queen, while the opening of “Minnie” shapes itself around old-school punk rock guitar riffs. The band have mastered the art of melding singer Alexis Krauss’ voice, often compellingly breathy and feminine, with what might be considered the most macho instrumentation in pop music—and while melody does not seem to be a priority on the album, the duo more than compensate with sheer enthusiastic yelling, juxtaposed at just the right intervals with brief pop hooks to keep individual tracks from becoming dull.

But Sleigh Bells’ strength lies in their musicality, not in their lyricism. Although most tracks have at least one witty turn of phrase—“Love Sick” contains the gem “There’s a heart in my chest / where a hole used to be / There’s a hole in my chest / where my heart used to be,” and “Young Legends” features the line “You always act like / war is knocking at your door”—the lyrics within each song seem to consist primarily of unrelated one-liners, and the songs themselves fail to deliver any kind of greater message. Oftentimes it seems that the words Krauss sings are little more than gibberish: in “Minnie,” she blurts the confusing and nonsensical line “Minnie, Minnie / go count your pennies / I’m sorry to say / you don’t have any,” while the very title of “Sing Like a Wire” is a testament to the song’s utter lack of lyrical logic.

It becomes increasingly obvious as the album proceeds that Sleigh Bells did not consider “Bitter Rivals” from a sufficiently broad perspective: the album’s first 20-some minutes amount to a wall of sonic overload. Though the band’s distinctively booming, echoing sound is palatable in small doses and makes for ideal party music, its overwhelming presence in “Bitter Rivals” is tiring for the ears and uninspiring for the intellect. The first respite arrives with “To Hell With You,” which features a lilting, delicate melody overpowered by the heavy instrumentation that comes in later in the track and abuse of the kick drum. But 30 minutes of thick noise-pop with one slower interlude toward the end does not a good album make, and Sleigh Bells gloss over poignant, quieter moments in songs like “24” and “Love Sick” that, with expansion, would render the album a much stronger work.

Each song on “Bitter Rivals” does not disappoint, but the work sounds like a collection of singles more than it does an album. Perhaps the tracks are meant that way, as individual anthems for the brief, ever-changing moments in the youthful soul, rather than as a logical whole. Though “Bitter Rivals” hammers incessantly, it it is still Sleigh Bells’ cleanest and most melodic work yet is indicative of the nature of their sound, and it seems that this new release signifies an attempt to move in a more appealing and subdued direction. One can expect great music from Sleigh Bells—it is simply that they, like the self-discovering adolescents of whom their music is so reminiscent, must first endure growing pains before reaping the rewards of adulthood.