Self-titled Debut

The Spin Doctor – Fleet Foxes, “Helplessness Blues”

Posted: 05/6/2011 8:36 am

Fleet Foxes – “Helplessness Blues”

4.5 out of 5

Seattle-based quintet, Fleet Foxes, had not only one of the best debut LP’s of 2008, but one of the best records…period. Following the release of the Sun Giant EP, their self-titled debut was a gorgeous collection of baroque hymnals, stunning three and four-part vocal harmonies, and a folk-rock sensibility; or, as the band themselves describe: “baroque harmonic pop jams”. Despite their antithetical mainstream compositions, Fleet Foxes’ debut resonated with both listeners and critics, going Platinum in the UK and selling over 200,000 copies in the US, an astounding achievement for a band with such a sound.

In early 2009, the band began the grueling process of rehearsing material for their follow-up, which they hoped to release by mid 2010. The trying sessions, however, didn’t go as planned and the material was scrapped, costing the band an estimated $60,000 of their own hard-earned cash. Principal singer/songwriter, Robin Pecknold, was quite candid in describing the period as a creative and personal struggle that resulted in tension within the band and the disintegration of his five-year relationship. The resulting Helplessness Blues, is a darker, more elaborate and ambitiously complex record than its predecessor. That’s not to suggest Blues is a marked departure from the debut; the boisterous tone and Brian Wilson-style arrangements are still present, but the lyrical content is all together more melancholic. Moreover, the addition of multi-instrumentalist Morgan Henderson to the band’s line-up brings an edginess to the arrangements that was absent from the slick-sounding debut.

Pecknold’s personal struggle is stamped all over the self-referential Blues. This is immediately clear in the first few passages of the record opener “Montezuma”: “So now I am older than my mother and father, when they had their daughter, now what does that say about me? Oh how could I dream of such a selfless and true love, could I wash my hands of, just looking out for me?” Elsewhere, on the excellent title track, Pecknold comes to terms with his own role and insignificance in the world: “I was raised up believing I was somehow unique, like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see. And now after some thinking, I’d say I’d rather be, a functioning cog in some great machinery, serving something beyond me.”

Helplessness Blues certainly has more 1960s swagger than the debut record. Check-out “The Shrine/An Argument”…all eight minutes and seven seconds of it. The track opens with an arpeggiated acoustic guitar and the harshest vocal tone Pecknold has yet to employ: “sunlight over me no matter what I do” he shouts, showing a raspiness we’ve yet to hear in his voice. The track comes to a dead stop before opening-up, picking-up the pace, and transitioning into the beautiful “An Argument”. It’s one of the loudest moments on the record with crashing cymbals, a thumping kick drum and a sadness clearly metaphoric of a disintegrating relationship: “In the doorway holding every letter that I wrote, In the driveway pulling away putting on your coat, In the ocean washing off my name from your throat, In the morning, in the morning.” The crashing then subsides, and is replaced with the somber tone of Tibetan singing bowls, before being slapped with a barrage of free-form saxophones and strings. It’s an incredibly ambitious track and, though it perhaps overreaches, it’s symbolic of a band that is not afraid to take risks for growth. It’s also indicative of a frontman attempting to distinguish himself from an accomplished ensemble. Pecknold has always been the Foxes’ frontman and principle songwriter, but on Blues, he appears much more comfortable in the role. Even when stripped to its bare bones, Pecknold’s voice and lyrics present a candidness that was absent on the debut. It’s no accident that the larger than life “The Shrine/An Argument” is immediately followed by the minimalist “Blue Spotted Tail”. The only track on the record without any reverb, Spotted Tail plays ying to The Shrine’s yang. With nothing but Pecknold’s voice and guitar, it’s a wonderful moment of solace on an otherwise complex and elaborate record.

Blues closes with a song of promise; “Grown Ocean” is a tasteful, up-tempo blend of all of the things you’ve come to expect from a Fleet Foxes tune. It’s innocuous in so much as it is indistinguishable from anything off of the debut. But it shows just how easily it would have been for the band to complete another competent record void of any real growth or risk. Though Helplessness Blues lacks the immediate draw and simplicity of the debut, instrumentally and lyrically there is so much more to explore. And though they are clearly attempting to move away from American influences such as the Beach Boys and CSNY, to the less commercial British influences of Pentangle and Roy Harper (Pecknold has stated Helplessness Blues was inspired by Harper’s 1971 record Stormcock), it never seems to be contrived or plagiaristic. It may have cost them $60 large, but if the music on Blues is any indication, they should make it back ten-fold.

- Ewan Christie

Tagged: BaroqueBeach BoysCSNYFleet FoxesFolkHelplessness BluesPentanglePopRecord ReviewRobin PecknoldRockRoy HarperSelf-titled DebutSun Giant EPThe Spin DoctorVocal Harmonies

The Spin Doctor – The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Belong

Posted: 04/1/2011 7:22 am

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart – Belong

3.1 out of 5

As a teenager I listened to a lot of The Smashing Pumpkins’ Siamese Dream. The record dropped during my first year of high school, and seemed to nicely bridge a gap between the Grunge music the Pumpkins so liberally “borrowed” from, and the top 40 of the day. And, although Billy Corgan et al would go on to bloated excess, Zwan and The Future Embrace, something about Siamese Dream stuck with me. Perhaps it was the big, anthemic choruses paired with angst-ridden guitar distortion, or maybe it was simply that I was a 13 year-old who played electric guitar. In any event, it worked.

Thus, I was greeted with a welcome surprise upon my first spin of Belong, the follow-up to The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s self-titled debut. Belong’s title track immediately tugged at my heartstrings. That clean finger-picked guitar intro crushed by a wave of distortion, immediately transported me back to my gawky, insecure teenage self. The track’s chorus had me so completely lost in an early nineties moment that it took a discerning voice to bring me back to 2011: “Hey, I’ve heard this song before. Who is this again?” From high atop music-pomp mountain, I shot back: “You couldn’t have heard it before, it was just released today.” But the damage had been done, and faster than I could say “Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness”, I realized what was happening: I was being nostalgically manipulated. I knew however that as clever as TPOBPAH were, they couldn’t have accomplished such a sound alone. There was clearly a larger mastermind at work. Upon sifting through the album’s production credits the culprits revealed themselves: Alan Moulder, and Flood; the very individuals who mixed and produced the aforementioned Mellon Collie…

TPOBPAH’s influences don’t end with the Pumpkins. Belong also contains elements of several impressive acts from across the pond: The Jesus and Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine, Ride, and The Cure, all of whom have worked with either Moulder, Flood or both. To be clear, I’m not a proponent of crucifying bands for wearing their influences on their sleeves. In the realm of indie-rock, carving out a truly unique sound in this day and age is difficult, if not impossible, and naturally if you’re going to play late 80’s, early 90’s alt-rock and shoe-gaze, you may as well source the best. I do, however, expect a band that references said artists to bring something unique to the table, and that’s where TPOBPAH fall flat. Though Belong is hooky, and plays well cover-to-cover, it lacks the grit, substance and, dare I say, sincerity necessary to make it anything more than a decent sophomore record.

Take “Anne with an E” for example, which is yet another retreading of The Jesus and Mary Chain’s “Just Like Honey”. You know how this one goes, that: “thump, thump, thump, clang” of the alternating kick-drum and tambourine hi-hat, complemented with dreamy, reverbed vocals. Granted, at this point, no one other than Phil Spector (who first used the drum line in the Ronettes’ “Be My Baby”) can claim its ownership but can we please move on to something, anything containing an iota of originality? Then there’s “My Terrible Friend”. The track nails The Cure’s sound so well it’s frightening: the synths, the Simon Gallup bass line, it’s all there for you to bop away with glee. That is until front-man Kip Berman shows-up to the party. His wafer thin vocals take away from several tracks on Belong, and when coupled with lazy lyrics, the results are near stomach churning: “Everyone is pretty and fun, everyone is lovely and young, everyone is gentle and gone, but everyone’s just everyone.” It’s like taking a bowl of fruit loops and then pouring honey all over it.

Admittedly, anyone could point to an abundance of similarly weak passages among Billy Corgan’s catalogue or Robert Smith’s for that matter. The difference is, though, that for every “Bullet With Butterfly Wings”, Corgan would give you a “1979”. Likewise, for every “Friday I’m in Love” Smith would give you a “From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea”. In other words, there was an equal dose of sweet and sour, and, love it or hate it, you have to admit that there was 100% commitment to the material. Unfortunately, TPOBPAH are as sweet as molasses, and though it’s fun for a few tracks, the formula wears thin and just might have you reaching for some insulin.

- Ewan Christie

Tagged: Alt. RockBelongBilly CorganKip BermanRideRobert SmithSelf-titled DebutSelf-Titled Follow-UpShoe-GazeSmashing PumpkinsThe CureThe Future EmbraceThe Jesus and Mary ChainThe Pains of Being Pure at HeartZwan

The Spin Doctor – Smith Westerns, Dye It Blonde

Posted: 02/11/2011 4:24 am

Smith Westerns – Dye It Blonde 3.2 out of 5

Smith Westerns’ Dye It Blonde is all about managing expectation and seeing it for what it is: a decent fuzzed-out, glam-rock record with some interesting synth moments; nothing more, nothing less. Yet, this young band from Chicago have sent critic’s hearts a flutter: a best new album award from Pitchfork, a 9 out of 10 from Spin and numerous other critical accolades. So what am I missing?

Smith Westerns released their self-titled debut in June of 2009, while they were still in high school. Recorded primarily in guitarist Max Kakacek’s basement, it was a rough, lo-fi affair (they tracked their seven-inch using the built-in microphone on their digital four-track), yet despite the rawness of the record it worked and caught the ear of Fat Possum Records who signed the band in the spring of 2010. Fast-forward to 2011 and their follow-up, Dye It Blonde, cut in a real studio, with a real producer, is quite a departure from their raw debut.

Dye It Blonde was produced by Chris Coady, who produced Beach House’s Teen Dream, one of my favourite records of 2010. However, where the dreamy atmospherics worked effortlessly on Teen Dream, here they get lost in the ether. This is largely a result of frontman Cullen Omori’s voice. Though layered/multi-tracked, and clearly produced to float effortlessly over the mix, it’s void of any punch. Thus highlighting the real issue with Dye It Blonde: as undeniably catchy as some of these songs are, there’s strangely a lack of substance. On the majority of the tracks the drums and bass are so far back in the mix as to be rendered negligible. Meanwhile, Kakacek’s guitar work, though fantastic on tracks such as Imagine Pt. 3, and Fallen In Love, often sounds more processed than authentically fuzzy. That said, when it works it works. Standout track Still New gets it all right: “I want to tell you, you’re hard to resist…” Omori croons while Kakacek drops a shimmering guitar line. On Only One, Kakacek plucks a jangly guitar figure that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on an old Byrds record before exploding into a gorgeous coda.

Thus I find myself back where I began: attempting to manage expectation. Dye It Blonde is a decent record, but not a great record, which hardly seems like an insult considering how young the band is. Smith Westerns are clearly a band still finding their sound, and I suspect that a record or two down the road they may actually be worthy of the critical accolades. Until then, easy with the Bowie references.

- Ewan Christie