Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!
Become a Fan of The Village Voice on Facebook
169 Bar Nyc
• website • view ad
92nd St.y   Tribeca
• website
Al B Entertainment
• website
Bb Kings
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
The Bitter End
• website • view ad
Blender
• website • view ad
Blue Note
• website • view ad
Bowery Ballroom
• website • view ad
Fat Cat/smalls
• website • view ad
Hammerstein Ballroom
• website • view ad
Highline Ballroom
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Iridium Jazz Club
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Irving Plaza
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Knitting Factory
• website • view ad
Le Poison Rouge
• website
Nokia Theatre
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Pianos
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Radegast Hall & Biergarten
• website • view ad
Red Lion
• website • view ad
Roseland
• website • view ad
Sounds Of Brazil
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Southpaw
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Spike Hill
• website • view ad
Sullivan Hall
• website • view ad
The Bell House
• website
The Studio @ Webster Hall
• website • view ad
Music

Share

  • rss
Music

Rogue-Wave's Asleep at Heaven's Gate

Half-Awake at Hotel California

Werner Trieschmann

Tuesday, September 11th 2007

Zack Rogue notably sang "Screw California" on Rogue Wave's last album, but that was a lie—2005's Descended Like Vultures was shot through with Cali sunshine, bright as candy and limitless with pop possibilities. Proving themselves adept at crafting huge, surging choruses, Rogue Wave sounded familiar (maybe the Pixies with a softer edge) and somehow new at the same time. Asleep at Heaven's Gate now continues that same kind of expert carnival of noise, even as its songs are longer (six of the 12 creep over five minutes) and flirt with jam-band explorations. Oddly, though, it feels like a step back.

Oh, there's still unvarnished beauty on display: The pneumatic hand claps that propel the ringing "Lake Michigan" are a masterstroke, and "Fantasies" never wants to begin, but then hits with a guitar hook that bores straight into your skull. Yet when the band searches for a groove on the onset of "Harmonium" or the twilight of "Phonytown," the results sound particularly disconnected and distractingly small. Rogue's breathy tenor means that over half the lyrics are buried, which isn't bad, actually, since what's audible doesn't really seem interesting. The exception is the vulnerable "Christians in Black," a solo acoustic number that underlines its melancholy about being "born and raised to be alcoholic" with trembly echo. No sunshine here, thankfully.

Recent Articles

More by Werner Trieschmann

Most Popular