Ted Leo

Peppy indie-rocker Ted Leo makes his debut on the venerable Touch & Go label with Living with the Living, a 15-song collection that, while reliably loaded with hooks, falls short of the standards established in his decade-long back catalog. Leo remains a likeable everyman, and his pinched whine makes a perfect vehicle for proletariat agitation, but he's slow to rouse this time around.

Early on, there are forgettable forays into well-trod Clash and Elvis Costello territory and, more detrimentally, the bubblegum guitar-pop of Fountains of Wayne. Later, Leo goes dub on "The Unwanted Things," and the effect is like Jamiroquai's Jason Kay fronting Sublime. He can be an incisive sociopolitical observer, but the abrasive "Bomb.Repeat.Bomb" sounds stunted and, dropped at mid-album, needlessly disruptive. "La Costa Brava" illustrates the primary flaw throughout: accessible melodies seldom lead to the expected payoff in the chorus.

Nonetheless, a few eclectic highlights stand out from the pack. "The Sons of Cain" is prototypical Pharmacists fare and, along with "Some Beginner's Mind," best showcases Leo as a heartfelt post-punk dissident. The flute solo on "A Bottle of Buckie" makes for one especially inspired twist—but also a reminder that there aren't enough surprises on the album as a whole.

- Adam McKibbin
03.22.07

When it comes to consistency, Ted Leo is the man. When it comes to writing songs bristling with nervy energy and sincere conviction that inspire, question, and reflect, there are only a few of his peers that can really measure up. Living with the Living marks full-length number five for Leo and his crew of Pharmacists, and it's another literate and stirring collection of songs built around his sweetly elastic voice and tightly wound guitars. On personal and human levels, he hits it all -- anger, happiness, frustration, love, uncertainty, hope, sadness, rebellion -- in songs that burst with passion and a true zest for being alive; cuts like the bright immediacy of "The Sons of Cain" and the tender Irish-flavored frolic of "A Bottle of Buckie" find Leo in top form and easily put a smile on one's face. Bitter political assertions surface like usual, yet nothing in Leo's career thus far hits quite as hard as the acerbically blunt rant of "Bomb.Repeat.Bomb." Brazen, in-your-face and stretched to the seams with seething defiance, Leo basically barks a giant fuck you to the government. It's all upfront danger and burning emotion when he spits, "Oh sure, you could mobilize a million troops...but then people start to ask questions/So when you drop in out of the white clouds in a blue sky/Don't worry about them having to see the whites of your blue eyes." The anxious pace and shout-singing make the song a definite standout, and though there are other tracks present to further vary things a bit -- the dub-inflected "The Unwanted Things," the slow-paced poignancy of "The Toro and the Toreador" -- the one fault (if you can find one at all with him) is that Leo has basically been writing the same album for the last few years. All excellent albums with stellar songs, but really, there's not much sonically to separate his records (or his pretty straightforward, by-now almost formulaic songs) out from one another. Plenty of Living with the Living measures up with his best, so it's really hard to knock such a likable guy who obviously knows his strengths and can consistently execute great songs -- sentimental and motivating, socially conscious and challenging, Leo hardly falters. Yet although his mixture of politics, heart and intelligence with taut guitars and a sweet falsetto will presumably be engaging forever (and Leo hits much more than he ever misses), it's getting hard to ignore that little voice inside that wants something more from him. Something a bit different that stretches his songwriting further and shows that he's really trying to push himself. There's no denying his talent, and five winning albums is still a hell of a streak. But Ted, we know you've got more in you. ~ Corey Apar, All Music Guide