The Faint: Hard labor

The Faint grow bigger after its yearlong Birth

By Mike Prevatt

It's a day after the presidential election and Todd Baechle, lead singer of indie/electronic act the Faint, sounds a little despondent over the results. "Yeah, we've been following it and we're pissed off," he says, referring to band discussions that day. "We're disappointed in the country we reside in. We've all talked about where we want to move."

And we thought it was just the blue-state folk declaring defection. However, the only place the Omaha, Neb., quintet is going--at least on this day of mourning--is Salt Lake City, a day-off stop in the middle of a six-week U.S. tour supporting its just released fourth studio effort, Wet from Birth. The trek is a fairly ambitious one, especially for an indie act, but few American bands have emerged from the underground quite like the Faint.

Formed in 1994 and releasing its first album, Media, in 1998, hype began building around the Faint after it put out its second record, Blank-Wave Arcade. By the time its next album was released, 2001's Danse Macabre, two things had happened: The band had somehow attained next-big-thing status within college rock circles, and a new wave resurgence--coinciding with the brief electroclash movement--had begun in earnest. The typically navel-gazing indie kids had embraced a more rhythmic and electronic-friendly sound, and Danse Macabre quickly became the soundtrack for that crowd.

It didn't take long for other music fans to take notice, as alternative rock radio stations began playing its singles; its hometown was earning a reputation as one of the most exciting rock scenes in the country, mostly because of the success of its label, Saddle Creek; several major labels were courting the band; and No Doubt took the band on its 2002 U.S. tour.

Once the two-year campaign died down, the Faint holed itself up in an old warehouse and began to make what would become Wet from Birth. At the time, only a few songs had been written, and the project had little by way of direction.

"We didn't know what we wanted to do, to the degree that we could imagine what it would be like," says Baechle. "It wouldn't be much like, or as similar to, our last two records. We wanted to make something a little less nostalgic, or reliant of music of the past. We've been moving away from that since 1999. I think we succeeded with it in general. It's more evenly distributed through styles and decades of music. I feel it's as modern as it is nostalgic."

Agreed. While Wet is clearly rooted in post-punk and New Wave, it's the blending of those inspirations--among others--that give it a fresher feel. "Phone Call," for instance, bridges Kraftwerk and the Police, while "Erection" makes unlikely influence-bedfellows out of Gary Numan and the Jam. The grooves are more addictive this time around, and the rock portions are punchier. Tempos and structures change at any given moments, and the songcraft feels more developed throughout the record. It's the band's most sophisticated album, if not its most labored-over. The band took a year to make the record. It trusted longtime producer Mike Mogis with greater responsibilities behind the boards. And it had a considerable arsenal of instrumentation at its disposal.

With Wet, the Faint has strived not to sound like one thing or another, be it electronic vs. rock, or retro vs. contemporary.

"This time, we felt we were as electronic as we ever wanted to be," says Baechle. "So we forgot about it and played anything we could put to use. I guess we'd like to be known for not using either [old or new instruments]--just trying to find an interesting sound with whatever we've got."