The Tricky Art of the Much-Anticipated Follow-up

Carefully consider the band that makes a big splash with their debut but then falters with a follow-up. Joy and disappointment are the initial reactions. And, while anticipation is often at a peak, the results sometimes fail to deliver.

Take the case of the Lumineers for example, a band whose sudden success found them riding piggyback to Mumford and Sons as purveyors of the new populist folk. All is well and good thus far, but with their follow-up offering, the truth is here for all to see. There’s not another obvious “Ho Hey” contained herein, although “Ophelia” and “Cleopatra” do show potential.

There are other enticements to be sure, but too few of these overly mellow songs offer that same instant embrace. Instead, we get a sound that’s not nearly as accessible as it was the last time around.

For the most part, Cleopatra offers a slow drift, one far too elusive to offer immediate gratification. That’s not to say there’s any lack of pleasing tones; “Sleep on the Floor” and “Angela” are pleasing to a certain degree. But where once there was a rallying cry of Saturday night celebration, now it’s mostly a lazy Sunday morning-after. How this affects their continuing climb in popularity remains to be seen.

Truth is, a gradual warm-up can deter ongoing enticement. Ultimately Cleopatra is one of those albums with a lot to prove and not a lot of substance to offer. Like the album’s namesake eventually discovered, subtlety can be a tricky tact when your ambitions find you aiming for greater glories.