Perfection. It’s a concept that wears just as many faces as many music enthusiasts out there, while not having a universal one. Whether the record in question is a labyrinth of mind-bending time signatures, a crushing riff bombardment, juggling with words on full display or a plate of delicious hooks, it’s almost certain it could make for somebody’s favorite. Finnish rockers Poets of the Fall are a special case in this regard, as their first four albums are pure gold to me. Whether they go for light, dynamic rock, acoustic ballads, heaviness and almost comical rasp or grand, moody soundscapes, they always manage to bring a smile to my face. 2012’s
Temple of Thought ended this winning streak. It couldn’t be farther from mediocre, yet in leaning towards poppy alt-rock, a style ditched two records earlier, it doesn’t come up with enough gripping ideas to make that as enjoyable as before. This brings us to
Temple’s follow-up,
Jealous Gods, having to step away from staleness and play some new cards... and let me tell you: not only did the band reach perfection once again, they managed to craft perhaps the most adventurous position in their discography.
Jealous Gods stands out among other POTF’s albums for a couple of reasons. The rhythm section sounds more thunderous than ever, giving the record a punch on par with
Revolution Roulette despite having nothing in common with said release’s hard rock stylings. After
Temple of Thought, we can also hear a stir in the guitar and synth departments. Olli and Jaska go all out with slick, memorable, and melancholic riffage and some truly massive solo sections, while Captain brings us a set of prominent electronic parts ranging from serene keys to dancey synths a la his ancient Amiga music output, to a solo sounding deceptively like a guitar one. Speaking of which, they even went as far as to record a constant soloing show-off in the form of “Rogue”, the band’s only instrumental track. Marko, on the other hand, sings pretty much as usual (which is good), besides dropping all the rasp and slightly expanding his arsenal of techniques (I’ll get to that later). There’s also the question of songwriting. POTF have always shown willingness to experiment with their sound, be it by adding extra flavour to a pop-rock template or completely switching styles. Before 2014, such alterations generally took a full album scale, with most songs adhering to the idiosyncrasies of their specific record; they’re varied but generally similar. You get the idea. Now,
Jealous Gods is consistent in twisting the scheme - it changes mood and style with each passing track, readjusting these two factors so even the songs of similar traits sound completely different.
Right at the start we’re graced with ”Daze” – a fast, dreamy piece, bringing about some Bad Boys Blue vibes. The overall feeling is quite unique to other Poets’ songs, the memorability only amplified by the earworm lead riff, the beautiful key hook in the chorus and, in the same section, a rare occurrence of Marko going full falsetto mode – something previously heard in “Cradled In Love”, but this time rather glam than oversweetened. Not soon after this early highlight comes “Rumors”, a more conventional pop-rock track, though (expectedly) well executed. This is the only
Jealous Gods song I’d heard before listening to the whole thing, and what a fine draw it was. The verses are calm and brief, quickly leading to the main attraction in the form of an incredibly catchy up-tempo chorus. The bridge may be a downside though (as it was for me initially), with its slow, key-driven first half laced with “whooah” vocalisations not leaving a very good first impression. On the other hand, “Brighter Than the Sun” nears the country-rock territory and features a bridge that’s a polar opposite of the previous one, with perfectly climactic riffing and “whooahs” done right, constituting a buildup before a powerful guitar solo. It also proves how convincing Marko is as a singer, his vibrant performance adding a sense of poignancy even to lyrics as clichéd as
I need you to find me, I can no longer breathe or
show them how you wanna live your life. Make no mistake though - his poetry remains just as vivid as ever. Its grand showcase comes towards the album’s end with “Choice Millionaire”, in which Marko swiftly alters between his usual passionate singing and… rap. Which might appear weird, but trust me: his agility in playing with words makes this technique a fitting tool for him to use (not to mention how damn hooky his delivery is). The instrumental section works wonders too, being driven by Cap’s major synth magic show and seamlessly introducing a rock background in the chorus.
I could go on with song descriptions, but as I myself went in blind, I think it’s the most rewarding way of getting into this release. Turn your sight to the atmosphere then, as it’s another key component of this album’s appeal. It’s maturely positive, to put it shortly. Uplifting music is a dangerous ground to tread on and one on which countless songwriting attempts have been laid to waste; something many listeners long for, yet might end up disappointed with, as it’s very easy for an author to lose the balance and make the final product sound uninspired and cheesy. Poets’ approach to it is considerate, uniting a craving for sunshine and lollipops with clear, realistic views, being both idealistic and practical. Accept that nothing stays the same; notice the little things that make everything worth it;
put a lacquer on your hunger and keep exploring what life has to offer;
love is there when you open the door and you step off the trail you knew before. The messages are simple yet important and not stripped of value by clichéd phrasing. Sure, the lyrics sometimes venture into that territory and are literal about quite a few things, but the skillful selection of words and metaphors and emotive verbalisation greatly elevate their appeal. This, combined with music that’s light, pleasant and dynamic, but with a sense of melancholy pervading through even the most energetic moments, paints a bittersweet picture of serenity reached through pain.
Jealous Gods definitely deserves credit for what it manages to achieve. It kicks things up a notch after the previous album’s running out of steam. It carries the band’s trademark blend of commercial appeal and maturity, while spicing things up by making moves either new or rarely used before. It’s a little cheesy, but never goes overboard with it and simply keeps things fun. It effectively builds upon multiple past ideas and believe me, I’d be more than happy to talk through all these callbacks and references, but the review would turn into a mess. All in all,
Jealous Gods is just a damn fun listen and even if it’s not exactly your thing, you’re likely to enjoy at least a portion of it.
