Ellington

Every so often, an album comes around that breaks all the rules. It disregards previous efforts, takes no notice of what people may think of it, and reinvents the wheel.

This is not that album. In fact, this may be an album that is almost on the complete opposite side of the spectrum. But that, by no means, makes it a bad album.

In its third studio album, The Fray doesn’t stray from the formula. The album clocks within two minutes of each of its predecessors at about 45 minutes, and the sound is composed of very similar, slow ballads of piano-driven soft rock.

The lyrical content is only slightly altered, with the song “1961” personifying the Berlin Wall. Another break comes in “Munich,” which was inspired by the particle collider in Switzerland and explores the human condition. However, much like their last albums, the majority of the space is still littered with love ballads about affection both lost and found. Case in point: “Maybe we were meant to be lonely, lonely / maybe we were meant be on our own / loneliness has always been with me, with me / maybe we don’t have to be all alone.”

That’s not exactly groundbreaking — check out the lyrics from songs off their previous albums: “Absolute,” “All At Once,” “Heaven Forbid,” “Never Say Never,” etc.

And here we reach an intriguing conundrum. If it ain’t broke, should it be fixed?

The answer is yes and no.

People who are already fans of The Fray will love this album, because it gives them twelve new songs that could have been placed on either of their previous outings quite easily. And people who weren’t enthralled with the inoffensive piano rock of The Fray before obviously won’t enjoy the album for the same reason.

For me, though, the saving grace is that The Fray stirs the pot just barely enough. Sure, it isn’t changing a lot, but there is enough variation within the exhausted formula that it feels just fresh enough to keep me listening.

A perfect example of this is in the funky — well, as funky as you can imagine The Fray getting — “Turn Me On”; the snarky bass line that begins the barely-three-minute song lets the listener know right from the outset that this is going to be a fun song, and it’s just that. It has the “oh, oh, oh, ohs” in the chorus and lyrics about how the girl — who is the subject of the song — well, turns Isaac Slade on. This finally leads up to the conclusion where Slade’s wistful lead vocals, Joe King’s passionate back-up harmony, and an uplifting guitar riff coalesce into one cohesive sound.

And it’s The Fray’s upbeat moments that are easily their strongest. Arguably the best track on the album, “Munich,” is an up-tempo soft rock song that quickly builds, filtering in violin with the usual piano, guitar, and drums.

There aren’t any truly bad songs on the album, just boring ones. “The Wind” is an unremarkable song, as is “The Fighter” for its entire first half.

And of course there is the first single off the album, “Heartbeat,” which tries very hard, mostly unsuccessfully, to be the next big hit in the vein of “How to Save a Life.” The song is pleasant enough, and its message concerning people who have been through terrible tragedies is nice, but it lacks the catchiness and kick that The Fray’s previous big hits have had.

This isn’t a great album. I wouldn’t even go so far as to say that it is a very good album, but it’s worth listening to at least once if you’ve never heard The Fray before. And if you have, whether you pick up this record should be a no-brainer.

The verdict: “Scars and Stories” won’t win The Fray any new fans, but it will most definitely please old ones. All in all, it’s a solid outing from the Colorado quartet.

Reach reporter Nathan Taft at arts@dailyuw.com.