CREDIT: THE ZOLAS
The Zolas will be playing Call The Office in London on October 11.

I write about random things a lot. I write a lot about random things. You probably recognize the concept of a sophomore slump — or the curse of the sophomore album, in music — and the pressures it presents to recording artists, but have you ever heard of the Pain Album?

We've spoken before about concept albums, but let's back up a bit and talk album concepts. Of course, the widespread availability of the mp3 and the digital revolution it caused began to change the industry in the year 2000, the beginning of the end for CD sales. But that revolution also had a profound impact on an album level, to the point where even elements like tracksequencing don't get the same consideration they once had.

Since there were only album sales to consider in the '90s — unlike YouTube views, Facebook fans and the complex metrics we have now — it was easier to discern trends and phenomena in popular music and how it was consumed. Not for the sake of prediction, but rather for the pure sociological joy in dissecting popular music theory.

The curse of the sophomore album is a straightforward theory: the pressure to repeat one's success can be a creative imposition on an artist. The curse has far less sting in the current musical climate, however, since the trend in popular music has been to move away from longer fulllength productions in favour of shorter and more immediate offerings. But back in the '90s, the curse was intrinsically tied into the Big Bang of mainstream success, and similarly spawned sub-theories of its own.

Although it's had a few names, the theory behind the Pain Album is simple: as a musician or songwriter, you have the gift of endless time to craft your first album. That isn't the case with a sophomore effort. In particular, artists who wrote from personal thoughts and experiences turned inward for inspiration and — drumroll, please — drew upon their experiences of being on the road, far from home, all alone, and oh so cold. Ooh baby, baby.

It sounds like a simple concept, but the act of rising above the pressure by challenging yourself to grow is time and time again the common link between all the success stories, and it seems that the lads in The Zolas have been paying attention.

The band, composed of vocalists Zachary Gray on guitars and Tom Dobrzanski on piano, released Ancient Mars just last week, the followup to their 2009 debut Tic Toc Tic. Smartly composed and arranged, this is a sophomore album that would have been a great artistic achievement and commercial success even by 1990s standards.

Ancient Mars is sonically alluring, featuring a shifting blend of tones throughout — dark, slinky guitars and warm, avantgarde piano, gated drums and flange — that the band reinvents with each subsequent song; far from becoming boring as you listen, each track on the album actually works to keep your conscious mind on the music and listening, barely loosening your attention for a moment.

The title track shimmers with an atmospheric flavour both breathy and spacious, an oddly compelling singalong. It works to leave you unprepared for the playful digital funk and shallow upbeat crunch of "Strange Girl" next, or the vulnerability and soulful optimism in "Escape Artist" — the differences between one song and the next are as inspiring as they are profound.

The Zolas are appearing here in London on October 11 at Call The Office with Hey Ocean!, a licensed event with tickets $12.50 in advance. In addition to celebrating the release of a brilliant new record, the band also recently took the top spot on The Hype Machine (hypem.com) online; for more on the band or their current tour, visit online at thezolasmusic.com or follow on Twitter @thezolas.

And for more of the latest in music news, views and flashbacks, consider following this column on Twitter @fsu_bobbyisms. Here's hoping you had a great weekend, I'm out of words.