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The Wallflowers: Breach

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Interscope Records
Released: 2000.09.26
Time:
 42:48
Category: Pop/Rock
Producer(s): Andrew Slater, Michael Penn
Rating: *******... (7/10)
Media type: CD
Web address: www.wallflowers.com
Appears with:
Purchase date: 2001.10.29
Price in €: 7,99



 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] Letters from the Wasteland (J.Dylan) - 4:29
[2] Hand Me Down (J.Dylan) - 3:35
[3] Sleepwalker (J.Dylan) - 3:31
[4] I've Been Delivered (J.Dylan) - 5:01
[5] Witness (J.Dylan) - 3:34
[6] Some Flowers Bloom Dead (J.Dylan) - 4:43
[7] Mourning Train (J.Dylan) - 4:04
[8] Up from Under (J.Dylan) - 3:38
[9] Murder 101 (J.Dylan) - 2:31
[10] Birdcage (J.Dylan) - 7:42

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


JAKOB DYLAN - Guitar, Vocals, Background Vocals
RAMI JAFFEE - Keyboards, Background Vocals, Vibraphone, String Arrangements
GREG RICHLING - Bass, Percussion, Background Vocals
MICHAEL WARD - Guitar, Background Vocals
MARIO CALIRE - Drums

JON BRION - Musician
LENNY CASTRO - Musician
MATT CHAMBERLAIN - Drums
JOEL DEROUIN - Strings
JAY JOYCE - Musician
BUDDY JUDGE - Background Vocals
KEN KUGLER - Horn
GREG LEISZ - Musician
KARIE PRESCOTT - Strings
MICHELLE RICHARDS - Strings
MICHAEL PENN - Background Vocals, Musician
ELVIS COSTELLO - Background Vocals
FRANK BLACK - Background Vocals
GARY LOURIS - Background Vocals
CHRISTOPHER PENN - Background Vocals

KEVIN DEAN - Engineer
HOWARD WILLING - Engineer
FEMIO HERNANDEZ - Engineer
OK HEE KIM - Engineer
TOM LORD-ALGE - Mixing
DANIEL CHASE - Digital Engineer
PAUL FOLEY - Digital Engineer
TED JENSEN - Mastering
SHARI SUTCLIFFE - Project Coordinator
CHRISTOPHE RIHET - Photography

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


2000 CD Interscope 490745
2000 CS Interscope 490745
2000 LP Interscope 490745



When Jakob Dylan first debuted with the Wallflowers, nobody expected that he would ever escape the shadow of his famous father, and those doubts hung heavily above the band until their second album, Bringing Down the Horse, became an unexpected multi-platinum smash. In light of that success, Dylan became his own man, no longer seen as only Bob's kid. That freedom is evident on the Wallflowers' superb third album, Breach. At the time of its fall 2000 release, there was a lot of attention paid to Jakob finally writing about Bob, a subject he steadfastly ignored before, and it is true that several songs do clearly acknowledge his famous father. But that's not the most noteworthy thing about the album. What's remarkable about the album is that he is assured as a songwriter and bandleader. On the surface, there's not much different between this album and its predecessor, but the songs are stronger, sharper, and the performances are lean, muscular, and immediate. Andrew Slater and Michael Penn's clear, surprisingly varied production is a factor, but the credit goes to Jakob Dylan and the Wallflowers; the band has never sounded better and Dylan has never been as convincing as a writer or singer. The result is the finest straight-ahead rock album of 2000.

Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All-Music Guide, © 1992 - 2001 AEC One Stop Group, Inc.



The Wallflowers' third album isn't so much a breach birth as it is past-due. But Jakob Dylan claimed he needed the four years off to come to terms with whether or not he could plumb his own life for material. It appears he can, because here the songwriter tears the veil off his complicated relationship with his famous father and uses it as a vehicle to express some of the same moments of self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy that we all experience, even if we aren't related to Bob Dylan. This newfound candor in the formerly abstruse singer makes for a much more authentic, emotionally affective record, whether he's wearing his neuroses on his sleeve or reinventing old slave spirituals in "Mourning Train." And even if you don't believe that the Dylan paterfamilias ever castigated his son like "Hand Me Down" infers ("Now look at you / With your worn out shoes / Living proof evolution is through"), it makes for compelling listening, made even more persuasive by the Wallflowers' sparse, muscular playing, which evokes the specter of those titans of classic rock: Jackson Browne, the Eagles, and Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers.

Jaan Uhelszki, Amazon.com



Although three albums in nine years hardly classifies The Wallflowers as prolific, Breach does go some way to proving the old adage about "quality not quantity" true. Picking up almost exactly where their 1997 album, Bring Down The Horse, left off, this is another beautifully crafted collection of sweetly strolling and country rocking tunes. With the monumentally weepy soul searchers "Mourning Train" and "Up From Under"--an acoustic ballad that shuffles tenderly along to subdued hand claps and a gorgeous introspective country boy tale respectively--The Wallflowers languid laments, aimed straight at those 4a.m. moments when there's nothing left to do but think, could easily steal the show, were it not for their equally potent jangly rock. As it is, the prize of Breach's greatest asset goes to Jakob "Son of Bob" Dylan's deep and gruff voice and his beer-swilling melodies. Not as popular as it once was, Breach is irrefutable proof that if done with style and songs as good as toe-tapping rocker "Letters From The Wasteland", middle of the road US rock still has plenty of miles left in it.

Dan Gennoe, Amazon.co.uk Review



What if Elvis had a son, one that decided to be a singer in a rock-and-roll band? It would be damn near impossible to listen to the son of Elvis without thinking, "By God, he's the son of Elvis."

Jakob Dylan has a similar burden of ancestry hanging over him. It's difficult to deny the fact that his father was -- and still is -- a benchmark of pop culture. Because of this, those who listen to the Wallflowers' music search for genius in patchiness, brilliance in the dumb luck of a well-crafted pop song.

Breach is equal parts likeable, lyrical jamming, and inflated mediocrity. The Wallflowers achieve their most noteworthy moments in their uptempo, instrumentally thick songs, such as the first track, "Letters from the Wasteland," and "Sleepwalker." When the band leans hard on lyrics as the primary stability of a song, the album falters a bit ("Witness," for example, is slow and tedious).

That's not to say that all of the Wallflowers' slow songs fail -- quite the contrary. Probably the strongest track on the album comes near the end, a track called "Birdcage," a seven-minute lullaby with a beautiful, repetitive build-up that never truly explodes, but sustains. That's followed by a "hidden" track with a high-pitched music box melody. While the lyrical content is old hat ("Baby bird / Come back home / You were never really on your own"), the pure prettiness of the song allows you to forgive its clichés.

When Breach is taken as a whole instead of piecemeal, it's a good, thorough record that evades greatness, simply because it fails to meet what may be unrealistically high expectations.

Jen Oliver - November 27, 2000 CDNOW Community Editor
Copyright © 1994-2001 CDnow Online, Inc. All rights reserved.



It's easy to want to hate The Wallflowers. Lead singer Jakob Dylan's love-hate relationship with the fact he'll forever be known as Bob Dylan's son is a bit tiresome, as is the media's obsession with turning him into a cover boy. Both these things are constantly overshadowing The Wallflowers' music, and are enough to make jaded music fans run the other way. They appear to be all style and little substance with their straightforward rock. It would seem there's nothing about The Wallflowers to like. If there was, people would not have to focus on the other things about them.

But for some reason beyond all explanation, The Wallflowers' Breach is nothing but likeable, although in a very obvious sort of way. Their music doesn't go much deeper than the surface, true, but it's enjoyable while it's happening. Every element sounds as it's expected to, from Dylan's gravelly voice to the chord progressions, to even the arrangement of songs. It's far from anything revolutionary, but their use of rock standards creates an entertaining group of songs. And in that way, Breach is quite nearly perfect except for the fact it doesn't say much.

Dylan writes his lyrics with the right amount of introspection without ever trying to sound too deep. They're memorable, but there's not too much meaning behind them. Instead, they merely state what's apparent. "Nothing is as hard as getting free from places I've already been" he sings on "I've Been Delivered". Still, his lyrics serve The Wallflower's music adequately, neither dominating nor receding. They're just there.

Most of Breach is just there, actually, slowing down and speeding up at appropriate moments. The songs don't do so manipulatively, at least, because The Wallflowers don't seem to be aware of the fact they're not doing anything new. They're an honesty to these songs, so as generic as they may be, they are genuine.

While Breach is surprisingly likeable, that doesn't mean it's something you'll necessarily feel good about liking, either. Still, you can feel good about the fact you don't hate The Wallflowers, and maybe that's all they really want you do to.

Eden Miller - PopMatters Music Critic
© 1999-2001 PopMatters.com. All rights reserved.



Jakob Dylan is becoming a master chronicler of things that fester: Tucked into the image-rich songs of the Wallflowers' third album, Breach, are accounts of romance that is not quite dead but on its painful last gasps, of desperate lovers carrying the torch long past the point of reason, and of sons being told, in a thousand little ways, that they'll never amount to anything.

You can tell that Dylan has been in the thick of this stuff. His songs are concerned with the residue left when the dust settles. "Nothing's hard as getting free from places I've already been," he sings wearily on the enigmatic hymn "I've Been Delivered," and you believe him. The song is one of those rambling seeker-on-the-path sojourns that Jakob's old man, Bob, does so well -- each couplet is a bit of sculpture that might not make immediate sense but that eventually has some abstract relationship to the whole. As the song builds, the banjo saunters in and sits down next to the brass, and the truths get heavier. "I've been the puppet/I've been the strings/I know the vacant face it brings," he sings. "I've Been Delivered" is the most intricate and songwriterly moment on Breach -- most of the time, Dylan does his best to frame more standard-issue observations (among the tropes: the wasteland, "incarcerated lovesick fools") in music descended from Springsteen, Tom Petty and other pillars of classic rock. Like the songs on the Wallflowers' 1996 breakthrough, Bringing Down the Horse, these tunes seem simple on the surface, an orderly procession of wordy verses followed by wide-load hooks. But there's always more going on: The sweeping Eagles-like arcs of "Hand Me Down" benefit from the wrenching chord changes and other subversive stuff Dylan and cronies stuff into the margins, while "Some Flowers Bloom Dead" masks its bitter message of regret in a resolutely sunny chorus.

It's in those little things that the Wallflowers show they're not exactly the same as they used to be. The band is more muscular, better suited to the task of bringing out the shades of gray or supporting the galvanizing refrains of "Sleepwalker" ("Cupid don't draw back your bow/Sam Cooke didn't know what I know"). Dylan has grown as a singer -- when he needs to, he can cop the grizzled nonchalance of an arena-rock veteran or echo Springsteen's somber Nebraska voice for one of the lumbering slow songs that dominate the tail end of the album. The slow stuff might be a bit ponderous, but the first six or seven songs manage a rare trick: They're incandescent enough to jump out at you on the radio, yet are steeped in a type of introspective inquiry that was once integral to rock & roll, and has nearly vanished.

TOM MOON - RS 852
© Copyright 2001 RollingStone.com
 

 L y r i c s


LETTERS FROM THE WASTELAND
Now coming down
Out of this swandive to your arms
I make no sounds
WhenI move thru your reservoirs
I wake up quick
I wake up sick
As you abandon me
Into these fields of rank and file
Thru this cloudI hear you breathing
Thru these barsI watch them bring more in

NowI send back letters from the wasteland home
Last slowdance to this romance on my own
May take two to tango, but boy it takes one to let go
It just takes one to let go.

Now boy keep still
Don't spread yourself around
Get back in line
Eat your bread
And just work the ground

'Cause you're not through
They're not done with with you
Did you think you were
The only one who's been let down
So sleep tight little boys of the new dam
Let them drop in the quicksand

NowI send back letters from the wasteland home
Last slowdance to this romance on my own
May take two to tango, but boy it takes one to let go

Now another bad idea gets thru
Down they send me unto you
Every bridgeI should have burned
Every lesson i've unlearned
When the smoke give way to ruins
Incarcerated lovesick fools
I wait for you to cut me loose
But until then

NowI send back letters from the wasteland home
Last slowdance to this romance on my own
May take two to tango, but boy it takes one to let go
NowI send back letters from the wasteland home
From whereI slowdance to this romance on my own


HAND ME DOWN

Whatever I know too much
You won't be anyone
Now tell me what you are thinking of
How could think you'd be enough
It's not that you've stayed too long
It's not that you've done something wrong
It's not your fault
But you embarrass yourself

Hand me down
It's better when you're not around
You feel good
And you look like you should
But you will never make us proud

You've been used by a army of cues
You've been touched by the lips of a queen
Now we've all made good use of you
But you won't be needed again
So don't you move and let someone else in
Make some room for a new harlequin
It's never enough
So don't disappoint us again

Hand me down
It's better when you're not around
You feel good
And you look like you should
But you won't ever make us proud

Hand me down
It's better when you're not around
You feel good
And you look like you should
But you could never make us proud
Hand me down

So look at you with your worn out shoes
Livin' proof evolution's through
We're stuck with you
This revolution's due

Hand me down
It's better when you're not around
You feel good
And you look like you should
But you could never make us proud

Hand me down
It's better when you're not around
You feel good
And you look like you should
But you won't ever make us proud


SLEEPWALKER

Maybe I could be the one they adore
That could be my reputation
It's where I'm from that lets them think I'm a whore
I'm an educated virgin

Sleepwalker, don't be shy
Now don't open your eyes tonight
You'll be the one that defends my life
While I'm dead asleep dreamin'

Cupid, don't draw back your bow
Sam Cooke didn't know what I know
I'll never be your valentine
The sleepwalker in me
And God only know that I've tried

Let me in, let me drown or learn how to swim
Just don't leave me at the window
I could be the one to be your next best friend
You may need someone to hold you

Sleepwalker, take this knife
You may see someone tonight
You'd be the one that saves my life
When I'm dead asleep dreamin'

Cupid, don't draw back your bow
Sam Cooke didn't know what I know
I'll never be your valentine
The sleepwalker in me
And God only know that I've tried

I'm in your movie and everyone looks sad
But I can hear you, your voice, the laughtrack
But you never saw my best scene
The one where I sleep
Sleepwalk into your dreams

Now, sleepwalker, what's my line
It's only a matter of time
Until I learn to open up my eyes
When I'm dead asleep dreamin'

Cupid, don't draw back your bow
Sam Cooke didn't know what I know
I'll never be your valentine
The sleepwalker in me

Now, the sleepwalker in me
Now, the sleepwalker in me
And God only know that I've tried


I'VE BEEN DELIVERED

I could break free from the
wood of a coffin
if I need
But nothin's hard as
Gettin' free from places
I've already been

I've been waste-deep
in the burnin' meadows
of my mind
In the engine
In cold December
shootin' fire from the hose

Now turn off your lights
'cause I'm not comin' home
'til I'm delivered for the first time

I was first-born to a parade
that follows in rows
down a narrow cold black river
faceless shadows
movin' slow

I would move swift when
the sounds of a trumpet would blow
I've been the puppet
I've been the strings
I know the vacant face it brings

Now the bells of curfew
They may ring before I'm through
But soon
I'll be delivered for the first time

You might keep clean
in the back of an angel motorcade
It doesn't matter who walks in
you know, the joke is still the same
You'll just wake up
like a disposable lover
decomposed
I've been gone
I've been remembered
I've been alive
I've been a ghost

So now, if downtown explodes
I'll still be on this road
'til I'm delivered for the first time

I have drawn blood
from the neckline
when vampires were in fashion
You know I'd even learn
to cut my throat
If I thought I could fit in

'Cause I, I once heard
that you gotta learn
how to blend in to this mess
Where nothin's hard
nothin's precious
and nothin's smooth or flawless

Now, no more amused
just screaming to be delivered
for the first time

Now I'm 10 miles in the deep
and mighty blue sea
Looking back, towards a long white beach
burnin' up into yellow flames

And I just wave back
like a little boy up on a pony
in a show
'cause I can't fix
something this complex
any more than I can build a rose

So just keep on letting go
'cause I must be close
to being delivered for the first time

Now I'd rather bleed out
a long stream from being lonely
and feel blessed
Well than drown, laying face down
in a puddle of respect
I was once lost
in the corridors of the arena
in blindfolds
I've been the bull
I've been the whip
I just pulled down the matador

So now, turn on your lights
'cause I'm comin' home
I've been delivered for the first time


WITNESS

I'm standing outside your window, baby
And there you are
Another year, another candle's burning
for the party girl
No one even knows that you're there
Happy Birthday, no one cares

You come around here,
You'd better bring a witness
Everyone in here's on the guest list
And when you're gone you won't be missed
Keep one eye open
when you kiss

Your wishes won't be coming true this year
Now darling don't you cry
We're going to teach you everything
You'll learn to get by
Now lesson number one in homicide
is emotional murder is no crime

You come around here,
you'd better bring a witness
Everyone in here's on the guest list
And when you're gone you won't be missed
Keep one eye open
when you kiss

Now sticks and stones, baby, break your bones
But the names, in here, can kill
We'd let you leave
but no one else wants you
Your ransom was not made
Now you ain't got to stand up tall
But now baby, you must stand up

You come around here,
you'd better bring a witness
Everyone in here's on the guest list
Now we've never been so impressed
Keep one eye open when, whenever you kiss 


SOME FLOWERS BLOOM DEAD

We didn't make it
We did not pull through
You shouldn't blame me
I don't blame you
Now what else did you think
that I would do?
ooooh as if it wasn't hard enough

I'm so tired of waking up
feeling bad
You haven't been the kind of place I have
Could it hurt you now
to let this pass?
oooooh as if it wasn't hard enough
You want to make it so much harder

Now in another world
I could learn to forget
But 'til then I'm here
making room for new regrets
Now some flowers they never bloom
And some flowers just bloom dead

The way you make me feel
I could collapse
An epidemic I cannot outlast
How could you feel used
when I feel trapped?
ooooh as if it wasn't hard enough

And just as my conscience
starts to clear
I drag the river and you're still there
The way I bring you down
could not compare
ooooh as if it wasn't hard enough
You want to make it so much harder

Now in another world
I could learn to forget
But 'til then I'm here
making room for new regrets
Now some flowers they never bloom
But some flowers just bloom dead
Now some flowers they never bloom
And some flowers just bloom dead

The way I sleep
this bed just can't be made
I pull the covers up around my head
Now when I think of me
I think of somebody else instead
As if it wasn't hard enough
You're gonna make it so much harder

Now in another world
I could learn to forget
But 'til then I'm here
making room for new regrets
Now some flowers they never bloom
And some flowers just bloom dead
Now some flowers they never bloom
And some flowers they just bloom dead 


MOURNING TRAIN

Mama don't 'you send me no love this month
'cause my heart is all used up
and mama I wanna come home
I wanna get back home

So look out into the morning rain
'cause I'm on the mourning train

I'm bringing down my suitcase now
I'm shining up my good shoes brown
'cause no-one knows my name
now, no-one knows my name
So look out into the morning rain
'cause I'm on the mourning train

Mama look at me now
Oh how I wish
You were around
So many friends I wish
I had right now

Mister you can't hurt me now
You've got my girl, I still don't know how
But it don't matter now
No it don't matter now
So look out into the morning rain
'cause I'm on,
I'm already on
The mourning train 


UP FROM UNDER

Well I'm down here in the well
Looking back up at the hill
Well I thank heavens I fell
Must look more
like myself
Now everyone is so kind
Everyone looks like
a long lost friend of mine
I'm on top of the world again
When I'm looking
up from under Babylon

I had a home in the fields
Earned my wage in the factories there
And I was raised by the mill
And I worked with my brothers there
I told my mother I'd always write
I headed west for the coast
with the big city lights
Now mamma I'm so sorry I've forgotten
But now I'm looking
up from under Babylon

Now tell me how far I've been
And how deep was I in
Tell me how I conceived
The vanity to believe
That I would not be outnumbered
By the thumbs I have been under

Now stray dogs in the street
Learn how to beg, steal, borrow and cheat
And in the dead summer heat
I fell asleep with blood on my teeth

But those days before I met you girl
Were just ice cream falling down
on the shoes of my world
I'm so happy that you're my friend
When we're looking
up from under Babylon

When we're looking
up from under Babylon


MURDER 101

Never thought that I knew too much
I always thought I knew enough
I didn't want to learn this stuff
I didn't ever want to be that tough
But love was just implied
And everything else died
This class has now begun
In Murder 101

You can learn it in the first degree
You could even make yourself believe
That you'll never even think of me
When you're packing up your things to leave
Now my intuition failed
I can't graduate unskilled
They don't excuse the young
This is Murder 101

Find yourself another heart that needs a rest
Tie a hook onto a single thread
Drop it down beneath the chest
There's the first part of this test
They'll grade you on a curve
They're including everyone
No matter what you've heard
You know this class has now begun
Drop out before they come
To Murder one by one

Just look what we've done
In Murder 101

Just look what we've done
In Murder 101

Just look what we've done
This is Murder 101

Just look what we've done
To Murder one by one


BIRDCAGE

So sad that you took it so badly
And acted so madly
So scared
like a baby by the morning
with sunlight unfolding
Your eyes have turned red
And are holding me
inside your story
In the end
you'll have started on a new one
Of anguish and delusions

He smiles
just like a magician
Who's just cast his illusions
of castles and sandstones
on the backbeach
And bright lights
within your reach
The sounds
of a warning
by the morning
of hound dogs coming for me
With the ropes leading back to your knees
And you looking straight at me

On your knees in the rain
with a basket of flowers
just for me
As the bells in the trees up above
all swung and rang softly
You said you rang them for me
For me

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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