We Bet Our Money On You

I can’t make up my mind about Daniel Francis Doyle’s 2009 release We Bet Our Money On You. Then again, neither can he. Y’see, Doyle is a dabbler. Creatively admirable? Yes. Experimentation is a grand ol’ thing. But when it came time for me to make a decision about my thoughts on the album, I realized that the disparity between genres on We Bet had left me confused. The album is mainly a Jagged Art Rock Effort Featuring Near-Monotone Talkingsinging and Complex Rhythms Say That Five Times Fast (tracks 1, 2, 3, 6, 7 and 9). But. There are two very curvy genre curveballs in the form of Swooning Lullabies (tracks 4 and 8 ) and Skittering Pop (track 5).

Now, I know that it would be boring and unfair to expect an album to adhere to a single genre. But the stylistic leaps here are huge. Billy Fuccillo huge.

Let’s begin with the dominant sound, that of precise chaos. While I can’t claim to love the whole art rock thing (translated: I’m not hip enough to “get” it) I can appreciate the intricate nature of it. These start/stop rhythms are complicated, and Doyle’s ability to harness the power of pregnant pauses is an impressive one indeed. He allows the pent-up energy from tantrum guitars to fester before momentarily shutting them up. And it’s the equivalent to a lull in a fight; deep, heavy inhales on mute, glowering red faces before the next catastrophic blow. I get the feeling that a live Daniel Francis Doyle show would be tense for me. I’d always have to be on the offensive, paying attention with constantly perked ears for the next stop-on-a-dime moment lest I be the fool still swaying in the lapse. I imagine it takes a pretty hefty amount of focus to keep this sound under control. These songs could get away from you in a heartbeat. So kudos for that. But like I said, I’m not so into this genre. Bias! I suppose I look for the music in it only to come up with formulas and angular guitar stabs. Not that there’s anything wrong with angles. I just need some soft edges every once in a while. Some actual singing. Some sort of a melody to remind me that yes, this is a song. That sounded harsh. But sometimes the deadpan brashness of Doyle’s vocal delivery and the emotionless instrumental handiwork leave me wondering if he’s a robot. It’s all just so… efficient. Practical. It seems to waste no time with poeticness or expanse.

And then. Track four, “Send You Away.” It’s nothing but inefficient sappiness. All sway and heartwarmingAndrew Bird violin plucks. Just stick in an Austrian sunroom with two hormone-adled teens and voila, a real Sound of Music moment. “Your Baby is Speaking” is another swooner. Simple piano, Doyle’s suddenly earnest voice. Gone is the bluntness. And oh isn’t he just adorable? Faltering and rather Ben Folds-y. It’s just a sad, wandering, Sunday song.

My favourite side of Daniel Francis Doyle? The click-clack pop of “Learning Things at School.” A shame he only ventured down this cute little road once. In my very un-hip opinion, this is the best marriage of all Doyle’s strong points. Unusual rhythms that switch up without notice. Guitar that does have its jagged moments, but in a Born Ruffians kind of way that swaggers with notes that glance off of each other. And possibly best of all, showcasing the suprisingly endearing quality his voice can have. Had he chosen to craft an entire album of songs with this kind of grinning spirit, I’d be all for it.

But he didn’t.

So I guess my final opinion about We Bet Our Money On You is that one of nine don’t cut it for me. There are some really appealing aspects to the music, but I just don’t think Doyle played to his strengths as much as he could of. I’ll be curious to hear future releases of his and can only hope that he mellows out and softens up those edges.

For more Daniel Francis Doyle,
MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/danielfrancisdoyle