The War on Drugs: Refreshingly different, yet comfortably familiar

MP3: The War On Drugs - "Baby Missiles"

With their debut release, Philadelphia quintet War on Drugs made it clear where they stood within the annals of the storied American songbook. This was Americana music, just with louder, Sonic Youth-esque fuzzed out guitars and a yearning to sound inherently different than the often subscribed to convention that the music needs to be just a tired embodiment of Bob Dylan’s jaded song-craft. Simply put, War on Drugs transcend the imitators, rather drawing comparisons from a variety of different places; anywhere from Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible to the synthesizer-washed sounds of 80s favorites Talk Talk, and even Led Zeppelin. And the group wears all of these labels unabashedly, and even with a sense of pride. Despite all of that, even if Dylan’s influence wasn’t there in a purely musical sense, his lyrical influence on this band still towers over them in a super-colossal way, making the group’s message seem quintessentially and irreversibly reassuring.

Baby Missiles is a song that War on Drugs fans should know well, as it appeared on their great Future Weather EP. Musically it seems as though this song presents a much more accessible sound than heard on Wagonwheel Blues. Perhaps that is the reason why Kurt Vile left the band. Perhaps not. Perhaps his solo career was taking off and decided that his brainchild would be fine, and would thrive without him under the guidance of Adam Granduciel, and it would seem as though Vile was right; the five-piece have recently finished a tour with indie-darlings Destroyer, and have been delivering killer sets every night, at times even overshadowing the headliner. Nevertheless, Vile’s influence is undeniably still within the fuzzy, folk-infused music, and the sounds on Baby Missles tightly wind themselves together to create an anthemic, soaring stew of noise.

The song starts with a Bruce Springsteen type ardor which sustains throughout the entire three and a half minute piece, providing the perfect backdrop for Granduciel’s emotional crooning. Even through the disoriented production values that are quickly becoming a War on Drugs staple, you can sense urgency in his voice, and the song – like every other song of theirs – gives a platform to unpack another chapter in their mission of chronicling the American experience. When taking all of these different aspects into account, it is obvious that the five-piece’s sound is backward-looking, yet forward thinking. It sounds comfortably familiar without sounding dated, which is a trend that seems to have permeated the current state of music, making it feel painfully stagnant. Thankfully, as well as inevitably, the War on Drugs is here to change that premonition. And thank God for that.