Back to Back Albums: The Outfield's Play Deep

Summer songs are to be despised.  This is my position and I'm sticking to it. 

Now, summer albums are a different matter.  Play Deep is, for me and many like me, a testament to all that is good and wholesome about the hot months of the year.  Each song is an ode to beaches, sun, and fleeting romance.  In fact, if you're feeling cold in the bitch months of a freezing Wisconsin winter, Play Deep will raise the relative temperature of your domicile by at least 5 degrees Fahrenheit. 

The Outfield have always been somewhat of a poor man's version of The Police: a three piece utilizing shimmering, echoey guitars and expressive vocals, not wholly divorced from the stylings of Andy Summers and Sting, respectively, but simplified.  Whereas The Police opt for more sophisticated time signatures and structures, The Outfield goes for a streamlined and ultimately more immediately satisfying approach that will allow the fickle fan to enjoy their music from the get-go.  Alan Jackman's drumming is likewise direct, a drastic departure from the intricate fills and rolls of Stewart Copeland.

This album's overall tone is upbeat, and uses major keys a lot more than I could normally stomach.  But I can stand it simply because the album as a whole has killer vocal melodies that at times recall the Beach Boys, and because I love the sound of John Spink's clean guitars.   There is very little space for any flashy manouevers, especially in the area of percussion, but the lead guitars are a real treat for the ears.  Reserved, in that typically British way that all of Her Majesty's bands are proficient, the solos strike exactly the right notes at exactly the right places, giving you precisely no less and no more than is absolutely necessary.  At times I can hear bits of U2's Edge, but that dude has made no bones about hiding his truly lackluster playing behind mountains of effects.  Here, any guitar effects serve only to drive the message further home. 

There's not a lot of sadness on display on this album, barring a few choice moments. "Mystery Man" is notably upbeat, and makes me want to go surfing, especially with the mention of the impoverished African nation of Mozambique.  Even when the subject matter is that of unrequited affection, such as on the lead track, "Say It Isn't So," it's done playfully, as if the narrator knows that another potential lady lies just one beach over.

Not everyone knows The Outfield's hit song, "Your Love," but they should.  As many are apt to engage multiple potential mates during the summer months, "Your Love" directly addresses the complexities of promiscuous dating.  Whoever Josie is, she's gone on some vacation far, far away, and this dude's sitting at home, wanting his #2 choice to come over and give him some down home loving. 

"Your Love" utilizes the minor key to the maximum; while there is clearly no remorse in deceiving Josie, we can feel the narrator's pain that he, as all of his gender who have gone before and shall venture forth after, will never fulfill their bag limit of partners.  Several other songs on the album also feature the melancholy minor key elements of "Your Love," more prominently "Taking My Chances" and "Nervous Alibi."  There's a real urgency in "Taking My Chances," which reminds me of trying to get to Pebble Beach before the sun completely sinks below the horizon.  "Nervous Alibi" is sort of the black sheep of the album, a nearly drum-less track featuring guitar and vocals, a lament to the fact that summer will soon end, and with it the convoluted mating rituals of all resort areas.