King's X

Item: Ear Candy
Author: Bob Melvin

Ear Candy

(1996)

Reviewed by Bob Melvin

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Label Atlantic RecordsThe LighthouseDecember 1996

alternative rock hard rock progressive rock

King's X's brand of progressive Beatle-esque metal (or hard rock-it's so hard to tell these days...) has earned them the bittersweet title of critics' darling, which is great for the ego, but doesn't always help in record sales. This is the Katy, Texas, trio's sixth album-their sixth effort, you would think, at cracking the mainstream beyond the one video that gets about 12 spins on MTV-and that at 3:30 in the morning. Not that this hasn't been attempted before. On 1994's brilliantly unsettling Dogman, the band's most blatantly metal album, King's X appeared to be re-inventing itself, parting ways with its long-time manager and hiring "uberproducer" Brendan O'Brien (Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots). The album reeled with pain, doubt, and struggle, both intensely personal and telling of the rough road the band had traveled. The musical mood of the album was also noticeably darker, with both music and lyrics painting a starker, colder soundscape than longtime fans were used to. Unfortunately, the result was pretty much the same: good reviews, not-so-good sales. What to do now? A grunge record? A power ballad? Nope. The King's X solution: "dance with the one who brung ya."

Ear Candy is the loosest the band has ever sounded. Perhaps it's easy to say that right after Dogman, but the boys sound like they are having fun. Back are the layered vocals and guitar parts, along with a general brightness to the music. Guitarist Ty Tabor is in fine form, returning more to his signature ethereal leads, but with plenty of the riff-craziness that made Dogman so memorable. He also handles three lead vocals and shares one with bassist and most-of-the-time lead singer Doug Pinnick. Ear Candy also marks the first time that King's X has enlisted the assistance of a background vocalist. They picked a good one, snagging Glen Phillips from Toad the Wet Sprocket for "A Box," a snide comment on so-called higher thought. The only problem is you can't distinguish his voice from the others. Bummer.

Even with Ear Candy's return to form, the band still manages to branch out musically, this time into an interesting blend of '70s progressive rock, power pop and power boogie, accompanied by '90s sensibilities that keep the music fresh. I've never used the "b" word in reference to this band, but there is definite boogie even to harder songs like "Sometime" and "Run."

There's an overwhelming sense of relaxation on the album, as if the band is simply giving a big "whatever" to the industry they have so diligently tried to break through. There is a comfortable feeling of issues dealt with, leaving them open to explore the pop landscape of "Mississippi Moon" as well as the tribal terrain of "(Thinking And Wondering) What I'm Gonna Do." No song, however, voices the palpable sense of healing quite like "Picture," a musically reaching tale about Pinnick's reconciliation with his broken family-a major theme from Dogman. After giving lyrical descriptions of his parents and their romantic demise, he offers this heartwrenchingly simple refrain:

We all got together for the first time last September I said, "Somebody take a photograph. I've got a camera." Now I got me a favorite picture

Even with the Yes and BTO fingerprints (along with a hilariously blatant cover art nod to Journey, right down to the winged insect), King's X has crafted over time a unique enough sound to have others compared to them and not the other way around. However, that is fast becoming irrelevant. This is the mid-'90s, where rock music is threatening more and more to become declassified-no matter what the critics say. The more influences that bands have to draw from, the more varied the music will become, blending and amalgamating genres until there are no lines. Lord, haste the day.