Review Summary: Is it sadistic to find such beauty in one kid's struggles?
Upon listening to New Orleans Swim Team, the moniker of Albertan artist Jacob Ulickij, it's rather difficult not to compare him to a variety of other artists. His vocal delivery, while still unique in its own way, very closely resembles one or more of the following: talk-music pioneer Dan Smith of
Listener, with his persistent yet pensive southern drawl, La Dispute frontman Jordan Dreyer, especially on their
Here, Hear series of extended plays, and/or a slightly peeved Michael Cera, uttering his grievances in an even less masculine way than before over simple musical backdrops. It therefore comes as no surprise to learn that at least two of the aforementioned individuals are explicitly listed as musical influences for New Orleans Swim Team, both of which play obvious roles in shaping their music. Though such inspirations are so evident, young Jacob brings enough of his own distinct firepower to the table, and in doing so creates a fantastic debut in
Sitting On Fences.
There isn't a whole lot to say about the instrumentation found on the debut, aside from the simple fact that it works. When considering the circumstances of the album's recording process, in which an 18-year-old Jacob borrowed the orchestral instruments from his high school band teacher, despite never having played them before, and then recorded the entire thing within a week at his house, that small fact becomes a miniature feat in itself. New Orleans Swim Team isn't about the instrumentation though. It's about Jacob Ulickij, though still meek and fearful, swallowing his discomfort and pain for long enough to articulate his thoughts and sentiments. And it isn't just unadorned articulation, as might be found in an editorial or a personal diary, but rather a mellifluous flow of self-deprecative poetry. In its sub-twenty minute lifespan,
Sitting On Fences manages not only to evoke pathos within the audience, but also purges Jacob himself of all the self doubt and angst that he's clearly been sitting on for a good long while. A track like "You Were a Ground Level Limb" showcases this best, with its reflective nature that's obviously searching for some clarity in the haze of human interaction and does so in a way that is both painfully honest and tragically beautiful. "On Subjectivity", the record's fifth track, is surely its strongest despite being its shortest, as it features the most ardent delivery and songwriting, something that one would hope Jacob continues to expand upon with further releases.
The impact of the songs does wane a bit, however, as tracks such as "Proper Art" and "What We're Not" not only sound a bit indistinguishable musically but also don't grab at the listener's insides quite as much.Â* Adding this slight inconstancy to the elementary nature of the record's instrumentation creates a bit of a shortcoming for
Sitting on Fences, though not one which overshadows the significance of its shining moments.Â* It is a record which certainly requires one's undivided attention, especially with such potent lyrics as those that close out "Security Windows", in which Jacob relates the euthanizing of a sick dog to a cure for humankind's generally malevolent and egocentric ways - it's as engaging as it is thought provoking, and without a doubt one of the record's finest moments.
In the end,
Sitting On Fences shows the beautiful tragedy that can be found within one kid's struggles. The surprising level of awareness and maturity found in his youthful voice only work to accentuate the tales of his tribulations, and remind all of us that it is only human to scramble and scurry, to be anxious and awkward. Despite its minor shortcomings, the record shows incredible potential for a young, jaded mind who could most certainly impress and stir his listeners some more in the future.
Listen: http://www.neworleansswimteam.bandcamp.com
