The Weepies have the perfect backstory to validate their insistently emotional music: Steven Tannen and Deb Talan met in a bar after one of her performances, hit it off, and later that night were writing their first songs. The love-at-first-listen relationship gave birth to their debut half-album Happiness, their wildly popular Say I Am You, and finally, marriage and a baby boy. While resting and recovering from the “emptiness” of their success this past year, Tannen and Talan cranked out the fourteen songs that would become Hideaway. They say it’s darker and more varied. That’s not exactly the case, but this new batch—written in their run-down California residence—just as effortlessly enchanting as everything they have ever done. Like many popular minimalists, there has never been a truly inventive or stunning bar of music in a Weepies song. But some have the magic and some don’t, and these lovebirds somehow got blessed with both their shares and probably a few others,’ too.

The Weepies
Hideaway
Rating: 7.8/10
Folk/Pop

The main problem with Hideaway is its length, not its homogeneity. Ten hushed lullabies are just enough to satiate most listeners’ taste for them, but fourteen—even though most of the songs work well as individual units—pushes the boundaries of a respectable attention span. And one can’t help being a tiny bit disappointed that Tannen and Talan didn’t try even the smallest bit of experimentation—no percussion change-ups, no electronic embellishment, no a capella singing. These songs are generally more “constructed” and textured than their past work, with a heavier dose of electric guitar, but somehow still don’t seem to expand the soundscape much.

Thankfully, sticking to form is less of a problem for the Weepies than it would be for virtually any other band in the world, and at least eleven of the fourteen tracks are unquestionable keepers. The very front of the album is the strongest— the wispy, brief opener “Can’t Go Back Now,” the sighing duet “Orbiting,” and the lilting, chromatic rocker “Wish I Could Forget.” The latter most resembles Tannen’s solo work, with his forward-moving guitar (a la “World Spins Madly On”) and some of the sharpest couplets on the record: “Standing in the sun, smoking quiet cigarettes/Just before I let you down/Funny how a heart shatters all at once/Seems like it should make a sound”). The up-tempo title track, perhaps Hideaway‘s catchiest number, is solid proof that the Weepies’ pitch-perfect dueling-vocal approach is still effective at a higher volume. (The same is true of the keyboard-driven closer, the oh-wait-we-need-a-happy-song “All This Beauty.”)

“How You Survived the War” mimics the form of the duo’s better soft songs, which usually employ three-part harmony (Deb singing two and Steve singing one). It’s the closest match to Say I Am You‘s unforgettable moments— the wrenching emotion of “Gotta Have You” or the fragile, divine harmony of “City Wide Rodeo.” Which of the two work better as a lead vocalist is an entirely irresolvable dilemma— they each sing their share of the better songs, but the generally-unremarkable songs on which Steve sings lead (“Not Dead Yet”) always outdo Deb’s filler moments (“All Good Things”). And their vocal blend is so complete, so unique—one distinct voice composed of her gentle, childish one and his warm, reedy one—that no one will ever be able to separate them enough to decide.

I’ve just spent over 500 words attempting to verbally capture the magic of The Weepies, and I hardly feel that I have succeeded. It’s a formula that’s tried so often and so rarely produces distinguishable, memorable music. But somehow these two are different—maybe it’s the pointed, plaintive lyrics, or the once-in-a-lifetime vocal match. And overlong and repetitive as this album may be, it’s beautiful from start to finish. Who can resist?