The Factory Party, After Death There Is Nothing

Been trying to figure out a way to dance around this, but the more I try, the worse it sounds, so I’ll just come out with it: I’ve been sitting for a little while on The Factory Party’s latest, After Death There Is Nothing, I’ll admit it, partly because, frankly, I really wish I liked it more than I do.

First off, let’s back up a year or so. When I initially heard the band, back before their first EP actually came out, I instantly dug their slightly-fuzzy indie-pop sound, with that nicely melodic bass driving things along like it did with long-dead Austinites Silver Scooter. It felt like the music the band was coming up bridged the gap between snotty/jaded Brit-rock and understated, emo-boy indie-pop, and I was pretty excited to see what they came up with.

Flash forward to now, and I’m listening to the band’s second EP (missed the first completely, I’m afraid, back in 2008, although most of the FP songs I’d heard before and liked are on it), wondering what the heck happened. Rather than continuing with their Silver Scooter-meets-Interpol amalgam, the part of their sound that I thought was the most promising, they’ve instead dived headlong into ’80s-worshipping, early-period Killers territory. And that can be a dangerous thing; the faux-Brit vocals, the dance-y cymbals, the near-audible disdain, if all of it’s not balanced with some serious energy, it runs the risk of falling flat on its face (heck, just ask the Killers themselves).

To their credit, The Factory Party don’t fall too far short of the mark, but they do leave me wishing their sound had more of a kick to it, particularly in the rhythm department. The bass I loved so much back when has been relegated (mostly; “Kids and Celebrities” and “Girls Girls” hark back somewhat to earlier days) to backing duties, attempting to anchor the too-far-forward, tinny-sounding drums as they race all over the place. I swear, I’ve got no special hatred for drummers or anything, but I think the songs would’ve benefited from pushing the cymbals back and the kick and snare way, way, way forward.

On the positive side, singer/guitarist Charlie pulls off the sardonic sneer better than expected and manages to convey kind of a wounded, bitter vulnerability beneath the jaded crust, especially on tracks like “Girls Girls.” And the songs are maddeningly catchy in spite of themselves, particularly “I’ve Done This Line Before,” the aforementioned “Kids and Celebrities” (which incorporates some nice synths that need to appear more often), “Girls Girls” (did I mention the fun chant-along vocals and handclaps?), and “Diana.”

The latter, in particular, breaks through my defenses and makes me want to grab hold of After Death with both arms; it channels that necessary energy I talked about and comes off desperate and manic, which is never a bad thing. More of that, more bass, less riding the cymbals, and more volume in general, and The Factory Party could fulfill the promise they’ve been holding out these last couple of years. After Death There Is Nothing is a step, yes, but hopefully it’s not the last.