Train Gives Its Angel Wings That Soar To Incredible Heights

This is getting embarrassing to say the least. Once again a Train single is nudged in front of my ears. Once again I come away from the experience firing off so many superlatives you'd swear lead vocalist Pat Monahan was funneling me a share of the band's gross income. Nothing could be further from the truth. You know the notion that your dream job entails the activity you'd gladly do for free? Listening to Train masterfully meld rock, pop, and a dash of country to make the stunning "Angel In Blue Jeans" is one of those activities you don't have to drag me kicking and screaming to the iPod to be part of. We're only some five seconds into the track and already there's a defining smoke coming off the grill. If there's a cross section of music fans who aren't bound to be satisified with Train's teaser shot from "Bulletproof Picasso" might I suggest said individuals pursue some other hobby like yodeling or basket weaving. As a an added kindness Train tosses in a chorus that sounds lifted from the guts of any action/adventure soundtrack you can name. In the interim between the outstanding "California 37" and this single inner tumult has shifted the working parts of the Train engine around a bit. Gone is drummer Scott Underwood who was integral in the high flying fanciful rocket ride that was "Marry Me". In his place lands Drew Shoals who serves as a solid timekeeper on "Angel In Blue Jeans". Although the song lands squarely in the pop/rock camp (Yes, adult contemporary. I haven't hung you out to dry either) the High Noon shivering knuckle drama that old school country enthusiasts know well assumes a prominent background position, particularly when we're staring down the barrel of "Everyone came running to the scene. I was shot down in cold blood by an angel in blue jeans. There's enough passion play at work during the first chord Jimmy Stafford plays, and there's no letup in the several second interval thereafter. Can you taste the pistol smoke? Can you see the lifeless eyes from what was once a stout hearted man? Setting the scene is a gift Train gets better and better at demonstrating. If you trace their history from their first real hit "Meet Virginia", follow it along to "Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me), take a right turn at the fundamentally peppy "Hey Soul Sister" (big ups for tossing a Mr. Mister reference into the lyrics because yes, I own "Welcome To The Real World"). and then cruise over to "Marry Me" and "50 Ways To Say Goodbye", the latter enjoyable to me because of the Cheez Whiz level camp value of the mariachi horns, and one pebble of possible fact stands out. With each passing release Train has cranked up the riskiness level of what its trying to sell. "Meet Virginia" was an agreeable enough melody but pretty much stuck to the play it safe end. Adult contemporary audiences loved it. "Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me) would not have broken the band open the way it did if the legitimate stage theater dramatics arrangements weren't there. By the time "Hey Soul Sister" rolled around in 2009 Patrick started to loosen up. As a Behind The Music episode dedicated to the band shows there was quite a bit of backstage turmoil that had to be endured to get to the footloose stage. When they got there the payoff was miraculous. The first time I heard "Marry Me" I was blown away. Yes, folks. Have fun and leave the tear in my beer pathos to the Hank Williams stripe of performer. Crank up the car radio and let your hair blow in the breeze, mutha!! "California 37" sounded like Train's magnum opus. Track after track floated by. Not a dud in the bunch. I'm sorry if this review is coming off as too much of a music history lesson but, in my defense I'm only doing so to demonstrate the heightened respect I've acquired for Train over the years. The guys really got a handle on how to approach their art as if they actually enjoy what they do rather than simply use their talents as a necessary way to keep food on the table and roof over the head. Train has stopped analyzing the hell out of everything in favor of pure rock pleasure. Patrick's ability to tell stories has only improved. His command of language was never in question. Having successfully proven he knows how to add myth making to his skill set, Train avoids spinning their wheels and instead veers off into a different yet no less satisfying direction. "Angel In Blue Jeans" is certainly a heaven sent gift. Train's evolution remains front row seat captivating. Flash back to them in 1994, then see how far they've come in 2014. Broken wings clearly mended they're on a roll I can only pray shows no immediate sign of stopping. When an eighteen-carat jewel like "Angel In Blue Jeans" is the result, suspension of disbelief brings me unbelievable pleasure.