The Bicycles, Oh No, It’s Love

By Less Lee Moore

The Bicycles are a Toronto-based band, but one for whom the word “band” seems terribly limiting. Their live shows traditionally feature not only the four core members—Matt Beckett, Andrew Scott, Drew Smith, and Dana Snell—but also members of several other local bands and musicians such as Henri Fabergé and the Adorables, Laura Barrett, and many others.

Oh No, It’s Love, reflects the collaborations of this collective of musicians but also retains the signature sound the band established on their first album The Good, The Bad, and The Cuddly: captivating pop with ironic lyrics.

Yet Oh No, It’s Love is far more ambitious and fully-fledged than the band’s first album, and not just because it features more than twenty contributors (in addition to the four “official” band members) and a vast array of instruments, from harp and harmonica to kalimba and pedal steel. Although there are many current bands who also use less traditionally rock & roll instruments, many of them are utterly boring and passionless. The Bicycles are the complete opposite.

Although the band’s sound may be thought of as lighthearted pop, there is nothing lightweight about this album or the tremendous amount of talent encompassed within these 19 songs. This is music for grown-ups, or at least grown-ups who still maintain a child’s enthusiasm for life. Not so much a concept album as a journey, Oh No, It’s Love crams a lot into its 37 minutes as it explores a love/hate relationship with love itself.

The Bicycles tell these 19 stories of relationships through lyrics that are extremely visually evocative; they create fully-fledged scenarios that we might not have been a part of, but to which we can immediately relate.

There is a much heavier bass sound on this album, one complementing the ethereal vocals of Matt Beckett. “What A Fool,” “Green Light,” and “Can I Keep Calling You Baby?” are perfect examples of this, including some decidedly more adult lyrics than one might expect.

Songs like “Roland,” “Oh No, It’s Love,” and “Won’t She Be Surprised” convey the essence of The Bicycles and their amazing knack for catchy melodies, while “End Of A Good Thing” displays the indelible stamp the Monkees have had on this band, adding a twist by setting it up as a conversation between a lovesick fool and his friends. The follow up, “Thanks For Calling Me Baby” evokes Jon Cusack in Better Off Dead, hearing nothing but love songs on the radio when he’s trying to recover from being dumped

Drummer Dana sings on the lovely “I’ll Wait For You,” and if you think of Karen Carpenter when you hear her vocals, you’re not the only one. The delightful double entendres of “Stop Calling Me Baby” are perfect for Dana’s deeper register and the pedal steel makes them hilariously sardonic.

Lest you think the band hasn’t matured musically since their first album, The Bicycles push the envelope of what you may think a band named “The Bicycles” should sound like in addition to confounding the expectations of even their most ardent fans.

“One Twist Too Much” showcases a heavier sound, with Drew’s plaintive vocals, some awesome thumpy bass, guitar from Jason Nunes (Meligrove Band), and cherry-on-top saxophone stylings. Niall Hynes provides the gorgeous Kurt Heasley-esque vocals on “Once Was Not Enough,” a song that doesn’t sound new-fangled, but which still sounds fresh and exciting. “Walk Away (From A Good Thing)” is the longest song on the album at 3:23 and is heavy (but not heavy) with guitar fuzz, a driving beat, and what sounds like Andrew Scott on vocals.

“Prove It” is a “spoken word” comedy interlude which will introduce you to the wonders of Holly and Inessa, two of the most genuinely warped and funny women you’ll ever encounter. But despite their sinister sense of humor, perhaps nothing on the album is darker than the melancholy “No One Can Touch You Now” with twangy guitar, more terrific bass, and lyrics about tombs and ghosts. By contrast, there is also the bittersweet, driving-in-a-Southern-California-sunset “It’s A Good Thing.”

The cocktail of different styles on Oh No, It’s Love would make this album perfect for vinyl. This is exemplified by “Leave That Woman Alone” and “Sweet Petite.” The former song begins with a Lennon/McCartney rhythm section (and a hint of Beach Boys) and then develops into an Os Mutantes jam. And speaking of The Beatles, “Sweet Petite” recalls Abbey Road in its own clash of sounds: it starts with heavy psychedelia contrasted with Matt’s delicate singing, slows down to beautiful harmonies and saxophone, and ends with a twinkly, acoustic final movement and Drew’s breathy Elliott Smith vocals.

With Oh No, It’s Love, The Bicycles have taken a trip through heartbreak and loneliness only to realize they still love love after all. And they help us love it—and the journey to get to that realization—just as much as they do.

The Bicycles play The Casbah in Hamilton, Ontario on February 12 and The Horseshoe in Toronto on March 13 for the Canadian Music Week Chart Attack Showcase. For more information on the band and to hear selections from the new album, check out their MySpace page.

RELATED LINKS:

Chewing Bubblegum And Kicking Ass: An Interview With The Bicycles, Popshifter July/August 2008 Issue