Jump for Joy

o refer to Jump, Little Children's new offering, Vertigo, as merely the "long-awaited follow-up to their last album" would be quite the understatement. Following their 1998 release, Magazine, the boys of J,LC seemed poised for super-stardom, or at least a healthy dose of radio time and some of the national recognition that had eluded them in the past. However, amidst all the anticipation, the train derailed along the way as their label, Breaking Records, was cut from its benefactor, Atlantic, leaving J,LC in the middle of a nasty divorce--and a finished Vertigo MIA in contractual purgatory.

With nothing to offer a growing fan-base expecting a new album, the members of Jump, Little Children did the only thing they could: They toured. Swallowing any pride that may have developed on the verge of bigger things, J,LC returned to their East Coast grassroots touring, performing live--exercising and strengthening the loyalty of their patient supporters. In hopes of tiding over the faithful for a little longer, the band released The Early Years, Vol. One, a double CD re-release of Buzz and The Licorice Tea Demos, two early indie recordings. Finally, nearly a year since its recording, the on-again-off-again Vertigo is definitely on--this time for good--but two haunting questions accompany the arrival of J,LC's independently produced effort: "Will this be enough to sate the musical appetites of those waiting?" and "Can it put the band back on track to national attention?"

The answers: Yes, definitely and yesÉmaybe. If Vertigo doesn't advance the career of Jump, Little Children, it won't be for lack of effort--or talent. The band has both to boot, and they aren't afraid to showcase either. Vertigo is a truly impressive rebound, reaffirming the legitimacy they attained three years ago, although possessing a slightly different sound than Magazine. It's still J,LC, but there is an enhanced musical maturity and spiritual revamping that is to be expected given their recent adversity.

For those unfamiliar with Jump, Little Children, it's difficult to pinpoint the group's musical style, which may owe to their numerous scenery changes on the way to success. From their very early days studying at the North Carolina School of the Arts to playing pubs in Ireland and coffee houses in Boston to busking on the streets of Charleston, South Carolina (a city the band still calls home), Jump, Little Children have honed their craft in numerous different settings with greatly varying musical scenes. Luckily, they never left a city without taking something with them, and J,LC's music still reflects their well-traveled roots. The result: splashes of classical, Irish, Brit-pop, and acoustic and electric rock that converge into a unique, dynamic sound that is ultimately indefinable yet undeniably enjoyable.

Lead singer Jay Clifford makes his vocal dexterity evident on Vertigo as his haunting, silky voice melts effortlessly into orchestral strings before reverberating violently off electric guitars. Joined by band mates Evan Bivins, Matt Bivins, Jonathan Gray and Ward Williams, the ensemble never falls short of spectacular, creating an intricate arrangement of harmony-driven power ballads and stunningly euphonic instrumentation. And speaking of instruments--these boys are multitalented and fond of some wild cards. Don't be surprised to hear accordions, cellos, harmonicas, mandolins, and tin whistles--it's a musical grab bag, and it's beautiful.

Vertigo is chock full of the melancholy and emotion that defines J,LC. The album flows gracefully from track to track, making the sum even greater than its parts--so much so that recognizing the best individual tracks is admittedly difficult. The album opens solidly with "Vertigo," the first single and title track. Somber yet catchy, Clifford's vocal lamentations hit home early as he sings, "Take me down/ down to where the rain falls/ down where the rain can wash away this high/ I feel I've gone beyond the edge and falling/ falling like tears that turn to snow/ falling in this vertigo." The desperation continues with the next track, "Angeldust," a falsetto-filled masterpiece, in which Clifford croons, "Under the angeldust and the terminus the heavens have already been turned/ caught in the circling high of a cloudy high is a feeling that I'm gonna get burned."

The sentiment, or at least the tempo, is picked up on the next song, "Too High," an energetic beat-heavy rocker--but don't get too comfortable--because the pace changes soon after, as tracks like "Hold Your Tongue" and "Lover's Greed" show off the band's Gaelic influences. "Come Around" and "Made it Fine" restore the power-pop flavor, but not for long. "Singer," easily the most distinctive track on Vertigo, sees Bivins taking over the vocal duties in a soft and sexy jazz-like beat poem. "Pigeon," with its slow and haunting sound, sets Vertigo down quietly after its diverse musical flight and wraps up the album nicely.

It may have taken awhile to get here, but it was worth the wait. As Bivins described, "Vertigo has arrived by cesarean section. It's been difficult. But we still love the little tyke so much. And we know that you will, too."