Lines between metrosexual and gay are blurrier than my eyes sans glasses, leaving us queers to wonder who sticks what in this never-ending sexuality guessing-game. So, thanks, Panic at the Disco for further confusing the heck out of us by making your latest, "Pretty. Odd.", sound like Ryan Seacrest looks: polished, well-dressed and almost queer enough to make us mistake you guys for gay.
They're not, though. Or are they? A frilly, sexually-charged stage show prompted Rolling Stone to ask singer Brendon Urie and guitarist Ryan Ross if they were dating (they denied it). And, later, they 'fessed to Out magazine that they wouldn't care if there was truth to the rumors. Gossip starts, though, with good reason: They've got flowers, birdies and butterflies adorning the cover of their March release. I don't like to jump to conclusions, but that's pretty gay. Even if they're not.
And I'm still convinced they're queer – musically speaking. Saying "so long" to modern-day emo (and, sadly, the random exclamation point inserted into their band's name), the all-testosterone quartet, just barely escaping their teens, sets their hearts – and horns, violin, cello, sax, trombone, trumpet – to a theatrically-flourished follow-up to 2005's "A Fever You Can't Sweat Out." It's definitely odd, mostly interesting and absolutely as flamboyant as witnessing Rufus Wainwright channel Judy Garland.
"When the Day Met the Night" is so sunshine-y that the jaunty pop sing-along should come with some Ray-Bans, while waltz-like "She Had the World" feels tailored for the score of a fairy tale, with a whimsical breeziness that'll leave your heart floating in thin air. Even when they get all Nickel Creek on us, pushing a country sound into the tongue-in-cheek-titled "Folkin' Around," it bizarrely works.
Best, though, is the peppy, arena anthem "That Green Gentleman (Things Have Changed)," which volleys a jolly pop-rock exuberance that's so darn catchy you can't help but imagine yourself dancing in the street, kicking your feet up cabaret-style – like you're in the last act of some buoyant musical. Further escaping their punk-pop sound, harmonies on "Behind the Sea" trigger obvious traces of The Beatles, and circus sounds on songs like "From a Mountain in the Middle of the Cabins" could land them a gig with Barnum & Bailey.
And, dammit, I'll say it: I haven't seen "Wicked," not even "Rent;" but if Panic at the Disco were to transform their sophomore disc into a bubbly musical, I'd be there in a jiff, basking in all my gay glory (waving my "I Love You, Brendon Urie – Homo or No 'Mo!" poster amidst legions of tweens).
My music-whore of a co-worker would pass, because she wholly disagrees with Panic's opening intro where they tell a little fib: "You don't have to worry, 'cause we're still the same band."
She's more worried than O.J. Simpson, and she has plenty of quibbles – It's too boring! It's too baroque sounding! It's too "Hokey Pokey"! – which is why she's protesting by saying "forget it" when they swoop into Michigan. And, while I'm with her that this is like watching an episode of "Extreme Music Makeover," kudos to Panic for putting artistic integrity over commercial success – even if they leave fans of their lost sound wiping guyliner from the corner of their eyes. B
INFO BOX
Panic at the Disco
Honda Civic Tour
6 p.m. doors, May 20
The Fillmore, Detroit
6:30 p.m. doors, May 21
The Orbit Room, Grand Rapids
