|
|
|
|
| Summary: A record rooted in folky psychedelic pop/rock that explores a variety of sonic avenues. One of the best albums of 2008 so far. |
My friends, if I told you good old-fashioned drugged-out folky psych pop drone was dead, I’d be lying to you. From the onset of the percussive march and wildly addicting ascending harmony of the first track to the very end, Bright Blue Dream never makes any apologies for its anachronistic approach to psych-pop, but instead draws from a wider palette to catalyze new directions in sound.
“Dear Broken Friend,” with its aforementioned pulsing drums and repetitive ascending motif, starts the album on a dreary tone while lacking none of the inspired fun of following track “Diamond Studded Caskets,” an upbeat tune with a sugary psych-pop hook. Such is the nature of the album. The songwriting combines a plethora of tones and moods, but it’s the narcotic swagger of the 60s intermingled with an all-too-contemporary experimental sonic palette, which results in a postmodern pop record that goes in a variety of exciting and unexpected places.
While the hypnotic nature of the songwriting rightly implies a repetitive theme in many or all of the songs, it is the sonic inventiveness and subtleties that keep the album from being negatively affected by this approach. Odd synthetic sounds and a droning guitar backdrop that flows in and out join “Diamond Studded Casket’s” vocal hook and bouncing piano. The droning guitar takes center stage only at a desolate break around midway through that sends the song in a darker direction.
A commanding piano drives “I Love My Job,” complete with appropriately layered chanting vocals, snapping, and a tongue-in-cheek irony that complements well the tone of the entire album. Never taking itself too seriously, most of its regressive faults are forgiven in light of the fun it has in being so. If it doesn’t care, why should we?
The title track is the big daddy here, clocking in at over 14 minutes, which is nearly double the length of the second-longest track. Still, it is not the length that makes this powerhouse a damned well-fitting manifesto, but the slow-burning development, epic droning soundscapes and heart-felt melodies. While the album has a lot of fun throughout its course, it is never afraid to strip itself naked and show some real earnest vulnerability. “Man’s Heart Complaint” is a touching and inventive song that ends brilliantly with the repeated refrain “just try to smile” against an ever-decaying musical background. When the drums finally die down and the vocals are suffocated, “Gulf of Mexico” opens with droning strings and irresolute saxophones, morphing into an elegiac love letter driven by bittersweet harmonica and moving vocal harmonies. It is in these moments that the album lets its guard down and transcends itself.
On the other hand, “Moebius” and “TVs That Were His Eyes” take a more abstract approach. While the latter is a mere seven-second epilogue to the former, “Moebius” is a seven-minute soundscape texturized with vague bleeps and horns that ride waves in and out of audibility. The piece culminates in one of the album’s loudest sections, a feedback-drenched build that never really releases its tension or resolves itself, making for a ponderous ending.
Even the acoustic guitar-driven folksiness of “Old Sandy Bull Lee” is inundated with abstractions: floating guitar lines, droning synthesizers and layered vocals lend the song a rather haunting atmosphere that contrasts interestingly with the nomadic acoustic folk that it is built on. It is the intermingling of all these ideas into a cohesive and emotional package that makes the Bright Blue Dream a worthwhile listen, and one to mark down for 2008’s early successes.
|
|
| |
