Nada Surf

In the sea of tragedy called the music business, Nada Surf remain a happy story. The story is well-documented but heartwarming enough to bear repeating: Seemingly consigned to a lifetime of appearances on Remember the '90s?-type compilations for their left-field MTV hit “Popular,” Nada Surf instead reinvented themselves as one of the premier power-pop bands of the past decade. The Weight Is A Gift further solidifies that standing, although it doesn’t displace Let Go as the band’s crown jewel.

Too often pegged as simply a mopey or melancholy band, Nada Surf distinguish themselves from their power-pop peers by injecting some electric guitar adrenaline into the mix (“Armies Walk,” “Imaginary Friends”), not to mention cheerfully profane party songs like “Blankest Year.” Behind the propulsive bass and percussion of radio-ready singles like “Do It Again” (the album’s most accessible track and, oddly, also probably its best) beats the incurable heart of a romantic. Matthew Caws can sound a little too comfortable at times on lead vocals -- it would be nice to see him stretch himself a little further, show listeners more of his breaking points, as he just hints at on opener “Concrete Bed.” He isn’t a dynamic frontman, per se, but he is a highly effective one, his languid vulnerability a perfect counterpart to Nada Surf’s easygoing but intricately crafted pop songs.

The harmonies are lovely throughout, and Death Cab for Cutie’s Chris Walla adds yet another bright feather to his production hat. It would be easy to overproduce a Nada Surf album, but Walla doesn’t take the bait. He strikes the balance just right, keeping The Weight immaculate but still liveable.

There is also a more spacious and wintery side to the band; whereas Let Go paid homage to Dylan with “Blonde On Blonde,” The Weight offers tribute to Neil Young with “Comes a Time.” Both songs are more appropriate for rainy day drives than cocktail parties, and that atmosphere suits Caws and Nada Surf almost as well as the polite up-tempo rockers. Every so often, though, they get a little too lightweight, as on the ooh-oohing “All is a Game.” Even the misfires are awfully pretty, though, and the several songs that really hit the mark are euphoric -- once again. - Adam McKibbin, The Red Alert

Upon its reissue in 2003, Let Go had already positioned itself to be an indie rock milestone in the making for Nada Surf. They'd left the major labels behind for Barsuk's hearth and home, and remained for their fourth album, The Weight Is a Gift. The savory punk threads found on Let Go are much more relaxed this time out. The snarky, boyish charm of High/Low, which made the band a brief mainstream favorite in the mid-'90s, won't ever fade, but ten years later Nada Surf don't appear to be that interested in the angst-ridden, fashionable appeal that they once were; each member is now over 30. The Weight Is a Gift is a soothing fit for those who grew up with the band. This 11-song set calls clichés into question, challenges old convictions, and somehow makes sense of growing older without losing sight of one's youth. Looking inward isn't always an easy thing to do. Nada Surf have composed fine songs for free-thinking, analytical, and pensive individuals, without being overly complex. The result of all this experience and reflection is that Nada Surf and producer/Death Cab for Cutie guitarist Chris Walla have made a great pop/rock record. It's more of an emotive affair, with soft-hued guitar layers, hushed harmonies, and frontman Matthew Caws' signature aching, bittersweet performances. From the gloomy orchestrations of "My Legs Grow" and the shiny hopes of "All Is a Game" to the more unapologetic, rollicking moments such as "Blankest Year" and "Armies Walk," the disc never loses momentum. Each song is perfectly trimmed, cut to flow without the touch of heavy production, especially "In the Mirror" and "Imaginary Friends." The Weight Is a Gift is Nada Surf's most honest and earnest record to date. ~ MacKenzie Wilson, All Music Guide