Collegiate Times

Do hometown heroes always lose sight of their origin after attaining fame? Surely these musicians have a comfort zone. Neutral pastures are all too familiar to Denver's heartbreak kids, or at least it just feels the same.

The Fray tasted success with their debut album in 2005, which sold more than 2 million copies in the U.S. "How to Save a Life" was nominated for a Grammy and certified double platinum in the United States, Canada, Australia and New Zealand.

But lead singer and pianist Isaac Slade and rhythm guitarist Joe King haven't let their success get to their heads -- or, over their heads. The former schoolmates began writing back in 2002, and their sophomoric self-titled record is proof that the songwriting process hasn't shifted much.

"The Fray" hits stores today, and the contemporary alternative rock band once again has found itself at a crossroads. The boys have left their hometowns and have ventured off into the city.

Their sophomore effort opens with "Syndicate." Of course I cringed as Slade starts by playing warm chords on the piano, only because I called it. The melody may be unmemorable but I'm convinced Slade is comfortable, and I suppose that's what matters.

"Buried in the ground, hundreds of miles down, first thing that arises in your mind while you awake, bending you till you break, let me hold you now, baby close your eyes, don't open till the morning light, baby don't forget you haven't lost it all yet."

Oh, yes, the lyrics are generic, too. They sound confident, but no one seems to be trekking over dangerous waters. Are they trying to sound like Coldplay?

The band's first single, "You Found Me," is a testament to a rough patch in Slade's voyage. Though the song may have only peaked at No. 8 on the Billboard Hot 100, Slade describes it as one of the most honest songs he's ever written. Listeners are sure to eat this message up.  

"I found God on the corner of 1st and Amistad where the West was all but won," Slade claims. "All alone, smoking his last cigarette I said, where have you been? He said, ask anything. Where were you, when everything was falling apart? All my days were spent by the telephone that never rang."

Isaac Slade claims that this was one of the hardest songs he's had to write.  

"It's about the disappointment, the heartache, the letdown that comes with life. Sometimes you're let down; sometimes you're the one who lets someone else down. It gets hard to know who you can trust, who you can count on," Slade said.

The album comes to a close with "Happiness," a 1 Corinthians 13:4 for the under-confident.

"Happiness is just outside my window; would it crash blowing 80-miles an hour? Or is happiness a little more like knocking on your door and you just let it in?" Slade ponders.

The vocals and guitar simplicity in "Happiness" actually have some sense of purpose. At the end of the day, the self-titled record makes sure to leave room open for expansion. Or was that supposed to be at the end of their debut?

People who enjoyed "How to Save a Life" will fall right into The Fray's self-titled release. Although there hasn't been much growth in their sound, their steady, steadfast fan base will not be disappointed. Those who thirst for dynamic growth may find the record falls short.

But maybe that's not what The Fray was going for. Perhaps their generic approach is what so many of us are fixated on -- I know two million people who may disagree.

The tones are comfortable, but at times skin deep. But it's the predictability of the songs that has me dreading the inevitable radio play it's going to receive. Those of us familiar with DC-101 aren't looking forward to radio loops -- I think we've heard enough Dani California.