When Best Coast’s debut record, Crazy For You, came out back in 2010, I got into a heated discussion with a friend about whether the lyrical simplicity was refreshing and innovative, or just “fucking lame”. Towards the end of this discussion, I still hadn’t wavered from the fact that Best Coast’s debut was a solid album, but my friend left me with this:
“That was great for one album; I get it,” she said. “But what the hell are they going to do for the follow-up? That shit would just be plain annoying the second time around.”
I had to agree with her there. And I’ve spent the last year or so wondering what Bethany Cosentino would come up with, other than a clothing line for Urban Outfitters which was debuted this week.
But then The Only Place, the band’s sophomore album, was released last week. I won’t lie: the listener was left wanting.
I was pleased to see that they didn’t try and simply mimic their debut, but the country direction that Cosentino is taking magnifies the band’s biggest weakness: their lyrics. The lyrics, well, they plain suck.
They are predictable: crazy is almost always rhymed with lazy, if not crazy. I don’t think that can be considered rhyming – it’s really just using the same word twice, which they do.
At times in their debut, the lyrical simplicity is cute: “I lost your favourite t-shirt, I wish my cat could talk. . . .” But in this album, it’s just painful at times.
On the title track, which sings as a love song to California, the format is dull: verse-chorus-verse-chorus. The breakdown of every song stays essentially the same: verse-chorus-verse-chorus. . . .
I’m bored, I’m put off, and I’m wondering why I was so stoked for this album in the first place!