Shame, Shame

Sometimes progress can be a slippery slope, and ambition a dangerous thing. Since 2005’s Easy Beat, Dr. Dog has been progressing, both musically and career-wise, at a consistent pace. On Shame, Shame, however, they may have gone a step too far. Part of the Philly-based band’s appeal has always been its Pavement-plays-the-Badfinger-songbook sound, with chewy power-pop hooks framing an amiable, lo-fi-tinged aesthetic. Their previous album gave the band its highest profile ever, and with the jump to their biggest label thus far, the stage probably seemed irrevocably set for a “career album.” In some ways, that's exactly what this is: Shame, Shame is undeniably their fullest-sounding and most stylistically diverse set so far, and they've been rewarded with bigger sales than before. Unfortunately, this album is not nearly as much fun as their previous output. In pursuing a more “professional” sound, they seem to have abandoned their lo-fi charm, and in pushing the boundaries of their song structures, they’ve left those tasty pop hooks by the wayside. The end result is the sort of dreamy indie-psych that could have been made by any group of Flaming Lips wannabes.