The Matches - A Band in Hope

8.8.08 Written by Lauren Asinsen

Back in 2006, the Matches were poised to be the next big thing. This four-piece from Oakland became so swept up in the buzz around their own band that even they thought their sophomore album, Decomposer, would go gold. Unfortunately, while Decomposer was loved by critics and their fans, it failed to climb up the Billboard charts.

Decomposer’s lack of sales was a blow to the band’s self-esteem and they seriously considered whether or not they should continue to play music. But rather than let this hurdle in their careers destroy them, the band persevered and began recording their third record, A Band in Hope.

Not wanting to create another Decomposer, the band threw out most of the material that they had planned to record for A Band in Hope and started from scratch. So while Decomposer sounds like a bratty young punk on Ritalin, A Band in Hope comes off as its matured, sophisticated older brother. He still has the angst but is a little more jaded and a tad bit wiser.

Their first single, “Wake the Sun,” sounds nothing like their previous efforts. Laced with buzzing choruses, this folky rock number is a bittersweet tale about the struggle to remain optimistic in the face of adversity. A more melancholy track, “From 24 C,” is reminiscent of the ‘80’s new wave group Depeche Mode. It has tons of hipster style without the arrogant attitude that plagues bands from Brooklyn. With a charming voice that often turns into mere whispers, Harris cunningly draws the listener into his story of obsession and heartbreak. As you hear him sing “I’m in your lobby, your elevator/I’m on your floor, the second floor/I can hear you now/With my ear pressed to the paint,” you almost feel like you’re right there besides Harris, witnessing his pain as he pleads to his ex-lover’s soul with every ounce of his breath.

Yet it’s not to say that the Matches have completely lost its adolescent sense of humor. In “Yankee in a Chip Shop,” the Matches deliver up a wacky, uplifting tune about getting lost in London. In the spirit of ’77 punk rock bands, lead singer Shawn Harris screams about “pulling” girls off their cell phones and telling boys to keep their “gene pools” to themselves.

But in the end, the album seems to be missing something. It could be that they still like to use numerous producers who help them concoct an album full of mismatched songs (pop punk, screamo, glam rock, and folk, to name a few genres they fall into). It would have been better if they had just worked with one or two producers who pushed them in the right direction and helped them find their own identity as a band, because it still seems like they haven’t found their true selves.