Rachel Yeates, Campus Carrier Managing Editor
“Oh we’ve got to turn up the crazy,” Brendon Urie pleads in the catchy headliner “Victorious.” While that may have been the agenda, most of “Death of a Bachelor” fails to meet the expectations raised by Panic! At the Disco’s previous albums.
Urie, Panic!’s front man turned last man standing, has been linked to Freddie Mercury and Frank Sinatra. “Bachelor” doesn’t rise to comparisons such as those, but the album is one devotees will enjoy none the less.
Standouts include “Victorious.” An adrenaline rush from start to finish, it leaves you with a Hollywood football championship high. The eponymous track echoes the vintage sound of “Pretty. Odd.” and the slow build of later tracks from “Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die!” Another notable track is “Crazy=Genius,” which has the feel of one courting madness with a background of brass, drums and screaming crowd.
Now that Urie is the only band member, Panic! At the Disco’s chameleon quality has been called into question. In the time between previous albums, the band’s sound would make a complete about-face. This album is a dramatic show of Urie’s vocal ranged, but it lacks the artistry of earlier work.
Urie is at his best when he is able to challenge himself and show off a little. “Bachelor” errs on the side of self-indulgent. Verses start with promise, but songs fall into a rut as soon as the chorus arrives, wherein they become quickly predictable.
Sure, the title promises a bachelor party gone off the rails, but Urie has stuck to this a bit too literally. Lyrics stray more often than not to the topic of substance abuse and their glorifying yet maddening effects. Songs are party-fodder or jazz club slow-dances, no in-between.
A few times, Urie creates a jazzy Sinatra fell. His voice lends itself so well to the smooth crooning of the titular track and “Impossible Year,” one can almost forgive the lackluster melodies.
Lows and highs aside, the album works best when you take it to its proper setting: the frenetic energy of an after party; the intensity of a crowd after a winning goal; a drive down an empty interstate, windows down, music blaring.
The album works best when you’re screaming along to it, and that is something the band, in all of its iterations and incarnations, has never lost. Newcomers may be better off starting with earlier records, but I have no doubt fans will put in the time it takes to love this album.
