The Carpenter opens with its strongest track, the titular “The Once and Future Carpenter.” It’s a beautiful meditation on life and death that serves as a reminder of what the Avett Brothers are capable of when they’re at their best.
But venture on to track two, “Live and Die,” and you’ll immediately find the Avett Brothers at their worst. This isn’t a change of pace, it’s a nosedive from which the album frustratingly never recovers.
“Live and Die” is a straightforward pop song — four-on-the-floor beat, big chorus and all. It could be a reference track for pretty much any pretty face on the radio.
Not that accessibility is to be reprimanded or that pop songs are bad, but it’s never been a central part of the Avett Brothers’ not-quite-country appeal.
And while the band’s last major-label album (2009’s I and Love and You) showed signs of super-producer Rick Rubin’s pop sensibility, The Carpenter is aimed squarely at a mass market.
Here, the characteristics that once made the Avetts so lovable — jangly banjos and honest, simple songs — have been blown out of proportion, polished, plastic wrapped and put on display with a “SALE!” sticker plastered on.
“Paul Newman vs. The Demons” sees the band playing electric guitars, maybe in an attempt to shock crowds and have a Dylan moment. The result isn’t even interesting, it’s just bad.
“Winter in My Heart” and “Through My Prayers” are color-by-numbers sad country song stereotypes. The inspiration behind these songs stems from very real events in the Avetts’ lives, but that certainly doesn’t come across on the record.
A mainstream audience might accept this album with open arms, but for a longtime fan, The Carpenter just isn’t going to cut it.
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