Fall Out Boy—American Beauty/American Psycho

Fall Out Boy—American Beauty/American Psycho

American Beauty/American Psycho—They say history repeats itself, and with the advent of Fall Out Boy's sixth album, that adage has been proven veritable. Where Save Rock and Roll was the distorted mirror image of Folie à Deux, coming out on the other side of fame, American Beauty/American Psycho is a return to the brand of Infinity on High. A welcome change here is certainly the lack of histrionics, though the bombast persists with mixed results.

American Beauty/American Psycho is the classic tale of a band trying out its new bells and whistles. It stands alongside Rush's Permanent Waves, KISS' Destroyer, and Green Day's American Idiot as an instance of established rockers opening up their sonic landscape; unfortunately, the results of these experiments don't always equal a good recording—as always, the core songwriting must be strong, which it is more often than not in the case of Fall Out Boy. Albums on the cusp of a new beginning are sometimes given dubious qualifiers like "transitional," but for Fall Out Boy, there should be plenty of oil in the machine; they had already shaken off the dust with Save Rock and Roll two years earlier following a relatively active hiatus for all its members.

"Irresistable" kicks off the album with an unfortunate horn riff, but ultimately gets to the point with haste, unfurling into a respectable if over-cushioned opener. Title cut "American Beauty/American Psycho" is more typical of their usual sing-a-long pop-punk—the least successful single, though certainly not the worst, but it does bring attention to Pete Wentz's increasingly trite lyrics. "Centuries" is the most celebrated single, and is more Patrick Stump than any other band member: cries, chants, and claps that tend to grate, over-produced, but not bad lyrically. "The Kids Aren't Alright" is better, with excellent harmony and less layers of superfluous arena-rock noise—not that arena-rock in and of itself is bad, but Fall Out Boy have long fallen victim to the idea that trying to recreate the sound in the studio is favorable rather than letting the actual live performances speak for themselves. "Uma Thurman" is the album's one successful meshing of the band's big sound with pop-culture jambalaya, as the sample of The Munsters' theme song is just plain excellent as its basis.

"Jet Pack Blues" is forgettable, sounding like the shriveled Siamese twin of "Centuries." "Novacaine" ends up being one of the best songs on the album because of the all-too-welcome distortion; it's a lo-fi crawler that, because of its essential nature, complements the dynamics that are ever-present in Fall Out Boy's music. "Fourth of July" should have stayed the soppy singular phrase as which it likely began life. "Favorite Record," on the other hand, is a fairly effective meta-retro love song that assures the band isn't disdainful of its roots; "Immortals" is the lyrical highlight: a self-aware double entendre combining the sarcastic relationship song of From Under the Cork Tree and prior with a observation on fame. "Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC)" sounds more like contemporary survivors and one-time collaborator Panic! at the Disco. It's something of an anticlimactic closer, but it's respectable.

Beauty/Psycho has some of the right ingredients, but when they put it in the oven, the edges burned a little. It takes the hip-hop approach of having no less than six producers, but the group seems to have forgotten they play rock, which prides itself on its instruments first and effects second. Their vision doesn't afford the experimentation, but when they build on what once made them great, the results are promising. The album is altogether no better or worse than Save Rock and Roll, but given the times, Fall Out Boy need to either try something different or simply write better songs, or they risk falling into the bargain bin.