Panic! At The Disco's Newest Offering Proves How Good It Is To Be Weird

Panic! At The Disco stems from Las Vegas, home to miles of get rich quick gambling casinos, buffets, and the to be expected stretch of desert landscape. This outfit's new collection "Too Weird To Live - Too Rare To Die!" pours on numerous shades of appetizing high energy reviews that run the gamut from showman (the album rock winner "Miss Jackson) to slicing right to the root of the matter ("Nicotine") to party shuffler ("Vegas Lights). Shifting focus to the overall level of spark given off, Brendon Urie shoots his vocals right back to the cheap seats of whatever auditorium, community center, venerable arena, or intimate shed you want to put him in. Nowhere is this more obvious than on "Nicotine" where he makes his break with a girl who, quite frankly doesn't sound like she'd be good for anybody's physical or mental health. He's crucifying her as being as bad for him as that certain element of cigarette smoking. There's nothing but razor blade hard ass edge permeating all over the track. If you fall into the camp of people who've grown addicted to Brendon's flair for the dramatic you'll be sleeping well tonight. He lets fly as if the oxygen were slowly but surely draining out of him. "Vegas Lights" deserves kudos because it opens with a segment from the classic days of Sesame Street. To anyone not around in 1969 when this legendary program hit the airwaves, all I can say is just humor a sentimental codger like me while I explain to you where the bit originated from. There was an old segment of counting exercises that concluded with a hapless baker tumbling down a set of front steps, invariably dropping the decadent treat he was carrying after singing out the number of said goodies he was carrying. The opening to "Vegas Lights" starts with the self same 1-10 counting sequence as was shown then. What Sesame Street has to do with Vegas other than the notion that both locales are very colorful and, in certain instances, highly revealing of the person(s) responsible for creating them I have no idea. Anyway it's a novel way to kickstart a rock-inflected party pleaser that succeeds in winning over both the crowd that wants true blue Panic! At The Disco emo power playing and the crowd that wants to party into the wee hours or until it passes out from exhaustion, whichever comes first. Spencer Smith's drums sound souped up. They're ready to embrace the carefree mood permeating all gathered for this celebration. During "Nicotine" Spencer gives no quarter. If his upper lip was any stiffer it would freeze up that way. Many times the guys zip me back to the '80s with its abundance of keyboard fills. This tendency pays off in the case of "Girl That You Love". Playing catch me if you can with Brendon's unyieldingly dramatic vocal power the keyboards take a little of the sting off so listeners can rest easy knowing this is the Panic! At The Disco they've come to appreciate, tolerate, or syncopate with since its inception in 2004. As a poetry writer I appreciate the untamed power of short bursts of energy that my medium has to offer. Still, "Far Too Young To Die" and "The End Of All Things" could've been left on the cutting room floor and nobody would've felt put out, hurt, cheated, or inclined to carry a grudge. The former track is unapologetic in the message it tries to convey but it's a path that's been worn down so many times you wonder how weary travelers can even make out the road anymore. The latter track is artfully assembled but if it was any more depressing we'd have to bring the suicide prevention hotline people in to help keep people from jumping off bridges right and left. Good for keeping the population controlled and I guess the funeral parlor industry would be high-fiving its brethren left and right but Jeez Louise...what a way to close what had been a record with a pretty admirable pulse running through it. Despite this brand of complaint, "Too Weird To Live - Too Rare To Die!" wears its weirdness proudly, like a king or queen wears regal robes. Dallon Weekes finds the ideal range for his synthesizer. As for his bass playing it fits right in with the Las Vegas stage ethos, smoke rings wafting through the air, the hard to shake din of gamblers trying to plink their way to the golden ticket. These guys don't know how to cut a simple, no frills record. Beside which why would you want them to? They give their audience their all and then some. This go round it shows time and again.