Railer - Frame of Mind

There's something familiar and foreign about Railer's Frame of Mind, which is a perfect metaphor for the state of Alaska, whence the band hails, as it's part of our 50 Nifty yet so strangely removed that it's hard to remember. Then, take into account that being a band in Alaska is like being a band from Sweden, where you're either Abba or Ace of Base, which isn't good, so if you're from Alaska you're either Jewel or... Railer? Maybe, as only time will be the bell-toller on this conjecture. The architects of the house of Railer draw from the icyness often likened to Alaskan tundra and, oddly enough, 80's wispy synth-pop, like (the familiar) Duran Duran, Depeche Mode, and INXS. Why? Because there's this gothic throbbing of bass coupled with trembling melody and desperate, pining and shaded words. Unfussy yet bleak, the lyrics weave and dip along Railer's catchy yet ruddy melodies (the foreign). Frame of Mind is undeniably easy to listen to, as it's got some goofy horror movie backdrops ("Deja Vu") to it's lovelorn songs, and there's definitely some 80's damage mixed in with some soft-core Radiohead fuselage. A bit whiny at times, Randall Scott's refrains are unobtrusive and warrant both the contrite and the glib aspects of sing-a-long pop rock, yet they don't plead anything necessarily unique or insurgent, which is obviously not their objective. "Theory As To What is Beautiful" is a dejected, iridescent piece, with a sharp recollection of early Radiohead (think "Talk Show Host"), and is easily the most pretty offering of Frame of Mind, yet the rest of the album doesn't follow suit, preferring to mimic less detached styles. "Kiss Fix" is easily the most needy (lost love yet trapped love), albeit the song most likely to be stuck in your head all day, with its "Kissy Kissy Kissy No More/ So I could get my fix / All I need's somebody / Someone to touch me / Someone who's real" chorus, with its follow-up "Crossing the Line" sporting a lively riff with scraping strings and even, "Fuckin' with my mi-i-ind" mantra: Excellent musicality on that one, both angry and blithe. "A Part of You" and "If We Could Be" are unabashedly unruffled in their sincerity, which gets too saccharine about the 8th rotation, given that you're not suffering through a breakup during your listen. "Underbelly" follows the same theme, with "[loss] of strength and weakness in [your] fragile hands" and warnings to "[not] be fooled by devils in a party dress" which is honest yet redundant. "Minor Dream" is another cast across the couch, waiting for the world to stop spinning on account of your heartsickness vibe, but it's not unlikeable, only very trite at this point in the record and also jockeys on some very self-indulgently sullen lyrics. "When I See You Again" pummels through with mediocre production, but we're finally somewhat happy in our love loss. Basically, I get the feeling that there's a morass of unrequited emotional needs in Alaska, which brings us back to the beginning: The album is foreign (rippling guitars and surging, bell-toned backdrops- Jewel with ProTools) yet similar (Love scorched lyrics, copious usage of 80's stylings). In short, not a bad album, still an exceptional album, but not really a compelling album. [www.railerband.com]