Indie rock band Pedro the Lion was started in the mid-nineties out of Seattle by David Bazan and a rotation of other band members. After releasing four albums as Pedro the Lion and quite a few EPs, the band officially called it quits in 2006, and David Bazan went on to release Fewer Moving Parts later that year. Pedro the Lion’s third album, Control, is in line with the rest of Bazan’s writing and artistic vision by being deeply personal.
Although Bazan claimed Control was a concept album, it fails at musically or lyrically presenting a clear single theme that holds the album together. Control seems to be the antithesis of a concept album, especially when compared to their earlier album, Winners Never Quit, which has a clear progression; however, Control does achieve a more realistic feel.
If Bazan’s concept was how relationships feel in the aftermath of infidelity, then this album is nothing short of art. Comprised of ten songs, the album’s musical progression demands to be heard in a single listen, with the musical themes and tempo of the songs flowing into each other. Stylistically, the album jumps from indie rock to melodic ballads, which makes it difficult to evaluate the album as a whole. Lyrically, the album is extremely disjointed, on the surface at least, with most of the songs exploring infidelity or society/consumerism, but there isn’t much development to the music or story. Songs don’t have finite endings, but blend into the next thought. For the most part, however, each song is musically distinct. With no defining sound, Control feels rough and unresolved, which I think is the point.
Like a relationship torn apart by infidelity, this album starts out almost sweet, with “Options,” but with a clear undertone of something wrong:
And I told her I loved her
and she told me she loved me
and I mostly believed her
and she mostly believed me
The album moves quickly into the infidelity itself, from both sides, with “Rapture”:
Gideon’s in the drawer
clothes scattered on the floor
she’s arching her back
she screams for more
and “Rehearsal”:
It’s priceless when you say you have to work late
when we both know you’re at a motel
The lyrics of these stringed-together songs are not always directly related to infidelity. Often they relate to dysfunctional relationships (society and corporations) or the pain associated with living, as in “Priests and Paramedics.” Some of the other songs are more about society and corporations tainted by infidelity, a reminder that the world keeps turning even when relationships fall apart. With no clear direction or overarching musical theme, this album seems to be Bazan’s way of expressing the dissolution of his relationship.