The Cars' music isn't exactly what you'd call avant-garde, but it's a perfect example of forward-looking contemporary pop – a calculatedly exquisite balance of crowd-pleasing rock and the latest experiments in studio sound. The simplicity of the group's five-man-band, not-too-heavy-on-the-synthesizers arrangements precludes the sluggish pretentiousness of such British art-rock bands as Yes and early Genesis, yet the Cars are distinctly arty. Lead singer and songwriter Ric Ocasek's crypto-poetic lyrics and his painter's approach to producing (the layering of sound, the taste for use-'em-once studio gimmicks) give the group's arena-rock foundation an audaciously aesthetic edge. Call it
Read More
high-propane pointillism.
Heartbeat City, the Cars' fifth album, is, for the most part, a satisfying blend of high tech and low-key. This is probably the band's first album that's not dominated by uptempo, made-for-radio rockers, but by slower, sparer numbers that are rendered lush and almost romantic by a wash of floating background vocals à la 10cc's "I'm Not in Love." "Drive" has a beautiful melody picked out on Steve Reich-like percussion over moody electric keyboards and a laconic bass-and-drum line, while Ocasek's lead vocal is set off by electronically treated backup voices. "Heartbeat City" – a portrait of some kind of urban Oz or, perhaps, the landscape of the body – also sails on an ocean of breathy aahs. "Why Can't I Have You" is easily the LP's most affecting song, because Ocasek drops his usually chilly persona and, against a gorgeous whispered chorus, sings with plaintive desperation.
"You Might Think" and "It's Not the Night" are more standard Cars fare: charging rockers with sullen vocals. The best uptempo cut is "Magic," a juicy morsel of fun-food pop. The track opens with what sounds like a spaceship beeping, then crashes into heavy-metal power chords and typical Cars keyboards, while tickling the ears with sonic tricks and gizmos (a silly tongue-clicking noise illustrates the line about "high shoes with the cleats clicking"). But it's "Looking for Love" that offers a classic demonstration of the assembly-line arrangements that explain the name of this band: Three bass thumps and two drumbeats spread out over the basic eight bars, some kind of synthesizer tattoo percolates underneath, a shimmering three-note guitar line ascends and descends over that, and short vocal phrases provide a clipped narration. All these ingredients are clearly laid out and kept carefully separated in the mix until the chorus locks them into an irresistible, revved-up hook.
The sound of Heartbeat City is undeniably exhilarating, though it's much trickier to tell if the songs are supposed to add up to anything more than a bunch of catchy tunes. Because Ocasek is a smart (not to be confused with intellectual) guy, it's nice to think so, and there are enough references to suggest a subnarrative that intermingle
