Pitchfork

As a member of the Desoto Reds, Zach Rogue was working a crushing 70 hours/week at a web development company, frustrated, and desperate for change. Then a round of layoffs saved Rogue like a last-minute call from the governor and he beat a retreat to New York to see what he could accomplish on his own. Clutching a sheaf of the delicately odd pop songs he'd written but had no outlet for in Desoto Reds, he holed up in the studio with his friend Bill Racine and together the two began spontaneously cranking out the tracks that would become Out of the Shadow, an album that would earn Rogue Wave a Sub Pop deal-- and an endless parade of Shins comparisons. The spirit of adventure and freedom that accompanied Rogue's life-change was apparent in the record, which featured wispy, spectral tunes, somewhere between Simon & Garfunkel and Yo La Tengo, embroidered with intricate details.

Rogue assembled a band to take the songs on the road, and this quartet-- which includes Gram LeBron, Pat Spurgeon, and Evan Farrell-- is collectively responsible for Rogue Wave's sophomore outing, Descended Like Vultures. As such, it's reasonable to expect a record very different from the debut, which was penned entirely by Rogue. The first single from the new album, "10:1", confirms a sea change: Where the atmospheric debut laced cloudy melodies with quiet traces of heat lightning, "10:1" is a crashing thunderbolt. The thin, melodic contour lines that primarily structured Out of the Shadow become barely discernible underpinnings on this track, subsumed in raucously cartwheeling synths and returning producer Bill Racine's bracing guitar manipulation. The only vestige of the old Rogue Wave is Rogue's voice.

Has the band that relied on off-kilter charm forsaken their chilly moderation for heat-seeking rock? You know, sort-of-ish: "10:1" is a bit of a red herring. The main difference between the two albums has more to do with volume than style. The production now has more depth, and you're more likely to hear subtle (or not-so-subtle, in the case of "10:1") filters on the vocals. Out of the Shadow seemed to emanate from very far away, but Descended Like Vultures is more visceral and immediate, although the loud tracks are largely tempered and controlled. Once the disappointment that it's not a Leonard Cohen cover fades, the album's opening track, "Bird on a Wire", is a charming introduction to the louder side of Rogue Wave: Crisp drum rolls and strident bleats buffet the melody toward an outsized, lighter-waving chorus. The driving mid-tempo guitars that open "Publish My Love" are contrasted with an acoustic arpeggio that would've been the song's stopping point on the first album. The excellent "Love's Lost Guarantee" profits from the same contrast, revealing a surprising but totally sensible Death Cab for Cutie affinity as it alternates darkly twinkling passages with romantically crashing choruses.

Other tracks expand upon the gauzy, pensive aura of Out of the Shadow instead of revising it. A lively yet gentle strum and Rogue's weightless vocal melody comprise "California"; a low wash of strings colors the back end, and in its simple transparency it's one of the album's most memorable songs. "Temporary" should come included with stool and capo, with its murky chord progression and mumbled, depressive vocals. In the end, it's hard to decide if Descended Like Vultures is better or worse than Rogue Wave's debut. Differences that seem major turn out, upon close inspection, to be cosmetic, and if the extra padding relieves the songs of some of their signature inertia, the parts that stick in your head-- Rogue's lilting, saccharine melodies-- remain unchanged. Rather than evolving linearly, Rogue Wave are building upwards, piling masonry onto a foundation of solid songwriting that, with any luck, will remain as perceptible and essential on Rogue Wave's 10th album as it is on their second.