fter starting life as an alternately noisy and pastoral art-rock combo over 10 years ago, Grandaddy have evolved into something completely different. Their last album, 2000’s The Sophtware Slump, took their longtime fascination with modern technology and truly ran with it, and -- perhaps inspired by Radiohead’s OK Computer -- the album matched the increased lyrical focus with a corresponding jump in musical sophistication. Songs like the lengthy opener “He’s Simple, He’s Dumb, He’s the Pilot” paired complex arrangements with beautiful songwriting, blending their influences (a diverse mixture of Bowie, Radiohead, and electronic music) into a wholly unique sound all their own. For the first time, Grandaddy had forged the near-perfect album that their fans knew they had the potential for all along.


Three years in the making, Sumday is the eagerly anticipated follow-up to The Sophtware Slump, and it seems likely that the newfound attention the band earned for their last record has resulted in some undue pressure this time around. In many respects, Sumday is a complete step backwards. The album is far less ambitious than its predecessor, both in scope and in music -- in fact, this single-disc version was scaled back from the double album that the group was reportedly working on. Grandaddy seems to be ignoring their last album altogether, and as a result Sumday harkens back to the relatively simple formula of Under the Western Freeway and their earlier albums.


Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, and Sumday certainly has its share of great tunes. “Stray Dog and the Chocolate Shake” is reminiscent of Western Freeway’s “A.M. 180” with its chintzy keyboards and chugging rhythms, as frontman Jason Lytle whispers, “the supervisor guy turns off the factory lights so the robots have to work in the dark.” The melodic noise-pop of “El Camino’s in the West” is a textbook Grandaddy rocker, with a dense web of instruments and subtle electronics behind the staticky guitar riffs. The chorus to the raucous opener “Now It’s On” represents the album’s strongest melodic moment, and the song also boasts a fuzzy, gorgeous guitar solo.


Despite these few rockers, the large majority tends more towards Grandaddy’s slower, calmer side, channeling feelings of resignation and depression in a post-modern society. Musically, “I’m On Standby,” with its robotic bass squirts and soaring synthesized strings, is analogous to the Flaming Lips’ recent Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, but less polished and without the sense of playfulness that the Lips infuse into all their music. “The Go In the Go For It” more directly references Grandaddy circa Western Freeway, while most of the album sounds quite a bit like Grandaddy-by-the-numbers. On “The Group Who Couldn’t Say,” the group rips off their own “Chartsngrafs,” one of the more slight moments on The Sophtware Slump. There are plenty of nice melodies here -- all delivered with Lytle’s trademark whispery acquiescence -- but the songs only make an impact when they’re actually on. With few exceptions, nothing on the album is as lastingly powerful as the story of the suicidal robot Jed from Sophtware Slump, and musically there’s not enough variation to keep things interesting throughout. Ultimately, it’s Sumday’s more rocking songs that will haunt you long after the record is over; whenever the band actually tries to be haunting here, they’re mostly just boring. Which leads one to the inevitable question: so, where are all those songs that were discarded, then?