Volume Please: He left you – but not for long. It’s just a semester abroad but it seems like forever. Before he left, you couldn’t help but notice how quickly he had grown into a new, more confident persona, following his travels to every corner of the country. It seemed like it would just be one more journey and another step towards this new, bolder version of himself that neither of you could have imagined previously. As he packed his bags, you had to smile broadly at how amazing he had become as a dancer over the summer, arms and legs flying about with a carefree wink, when you couldn’t drag him on to the floor before.
Now he returns. Standing in the doorway, bags in hand, same old clothing but sporting a new shaggier hairstyle atop his head and even more confusing – a slower cadence to his speech. An investigative nature to his gaze and a pile of old books at his feet. This person looks like someone you would love to talk to all night but bears little resemblance to the bright eyes that stared back at you through the window of the taxi on the way to the airport.
You embrace.
Your friends want to know how his trip was. “Good…” comes from your lips, but in truth, it will be weeks before you are sure that word is appropriate.
The soundtrack to this reunion should certainly be the new Le Loup. It has taken me three weeks since first pecking out a few words to complete this review of “Family.” I just didn’t fully know what I thought about it. I was certain that it wasn’t the record I was expecting when I saw them last. Triumphantly returning to DC from their world tour, the band seemed more a rhythmic tribe – packing The Black Cat and shaking its collective tight jeans covered ass. The sound had gone from Sam Simkoff’s home recordings to a HUGE layered blast of percussion and chanted vocals. If there was one thing I was certain about their next recordings – it was that they would sound big: Bigger than big.
So you can imagine my perplexed response when the pastoral drift of “Family” hit my e-turntable. “Saddle Mountain” announces itself with only a simple bass drum thump and Simkoff bathed in reverb, pulling a vocal melody from thin air. Tiny percolations and details abound, but the result is like a renaissance take on CSNY folk. It is a song that is barely a song at all, and it seems as if it is from another time all together – not the bold blast of the future I was eagerly anticipating. “Beach Town” emerges with what will be the beginning of a song cycle where it’s melody graces several tracks on the album. It has that layered percussion I crave, but it has buried it underwater. Pieces dart in and out with Simkoff flying through, combining a lilting melody over the churning drums before they stop for just a moment halfway through to settle for a traditional “rock” break. It lasts but a second and soon all the elements seem to be racing one another. Guitar lines climb. Vocals climb. Drums pick up the pace and push everyone upward and I turn and face my old friend.
We’ve both changed, while somehow remaining the same. He can’t apologize for not meeting my expectations. He didn’t even know I had them. All he could ever do was continue on his path and document his travels. Suddenly, I am happy just to be along for the trip.
“Grow” teases with a piano that plunks and then disappears before a chanting chatter forms the base for a nearly doo-wop styled croon and bassy backing. It is a sophisticated brew. One part Flamingoes/Belmonts, one part Spector girl group thump, one part tropicalia and several parts freak folk seasoning. Touring with Ruby Suns might have added a dash here and there, but the roots of an incredible sound for tomorrow are all here.
That makes it all the more appropriate that “Morning Song” follows, holding as closely to Simkoff’s old compositions as it does with the emphasis on banjo and ethereal vocals. The juxtaposition between the two songs reminds me that this sounds like the middle of the night in the wilderness to me – especially when the hushed fade builds – rather than time to rise. “Family” continues this vibe before erupting into a celebratory exclamation for the second half. The image of the band clapping and stomping while pounding percussion is one of a tight circle though. It is as if “Family” is an insular term. One to be observed and perhaps enjoyed – but for every moment of extroverted power in a song like “Forgive Me,” there is a sense of distance – a closing of ranks.
Ruminating over “Go East” and the glacial swoon of “Golden Bell” into the quiet (oh so quiet) build back for the playful figures of “Sherpa,” the band seem to finally welcome you into their arms. It doesn’t hold as they dart back into the night to deliver the delightful singsongy strum of “Neahkahnie” before leaving you a note behind – already onto their next journey – with the cyclical “A Celebration” that seems to serve as a summation of all the songs that have passed before.
It’s not goodbye – far from it. They just can’t stay in one place. Not just yet. There is so much to see and it isn’t easy to do when you miss the quiet and the warmth of home. Yet they know the time is now. Family will keep them centered and always welcome them back with open arms.
That’s what “Family” does.
So you dig the music even though it wasn’t what you anticipated – where does that leave the look of this thing? Well, the overall pastoral blanket of the twinkling layers of wildflowers suits the ethereal feel of the music within. Created by band member Christian Ervin, the mode of forming a collage serves to make for a tough time finding a center or perspective from which to see the fauna emanating – which keeps the detail-oriented viewer (hey – that’s me!) a little off kilter, which I also enjoy. The overall effect is like an inverted constellation at night, with the points of almost neon light, pocketed by the deep mossy greens.
The occasional transparency created with the layering effect serves as a tiny little window into what lies beneath – with the reality being more flowers. It reminds me heavily of the details that dart in and out of the songs alluding to the melodies and rhythms, rather than stating them outright. Buried in reverb and muffled at times – the overall result is still hopeful and bright.
It is an interesting development when the booklet carries the same feel on the outside but the interior pages are bathed in a gradient of warm colors ebbing and flowing, blurry yet intense. Finally you are “inside.” Away from the density and layers and held softly in the amber light – it is a tough trail to travel in some ways as it offers little in the way of clues – but rewards your dedication and heralds your arrival.
The few instances of typography are minimal but belie a level of inexperience. The simple disc label is a bold contrast and works very well. The UPC and spine are clunky however, especially given the subtlety of the imagery. The lyrics are set in small blocks that seem to float in and out (nice) but lack a true grid structure so that they relate to one another in a balanced manner (bad.) The telltale sign is the justified type in the “special thanks to” block (I know, I know – only a hard ass criticizes the type layout in the special thanks!) Squinting allows you to see the “rivers” or spaces created by not properly tracking out the type, which makes for uncomfortable spaces in the lines of text. It’s not a huge deal but it is the type of difference maker in upper echelon design. An additional touch would have been kerning the letters in “Family” on the disc label so that the “i” lined up with the “p” in “Loup” which is the kind of icing I like to put on my cake.
In the end, this record arrived looking (and sounding) nothing like I was expecting, following the stark contrast of the gold scrawls on black from their debut and the rumbling monolith of their live show. It was a gentler, more fragile (and perhaps thoughtful) package. Not fully formed – in fact, far from it. It is just the beginning of growth, with the shimmering flowers soon to reach for the sun, but needing care and nourishment along the way.
Special bonus this week: the first person to post what the photo is of in the background wins a pack of limited edition screenprints!
Keeping Score Are You? Music 7.0 Design 6.5
John Foster puts his money where his mouth is at his very own design firm: Bad People Good Things. He has brand spanking new book out as well with Dirty Fingernails (Rockport). Those publishers went mad and also let him author For Sale: Over 200 Innovative Solutions in Packaging Design (HOW), New Masters of Poster Design (Rockport), Maximum Page Design (HOW) and a monograph on Jeff Kleinsmith for Sub Pop Records.
Related:
i really want to know where that cover is from, but it definitely reminds me of artist Janet Sobel…who i’ve been sort of obsessed with lately, so naturally, I LOVE IT.
October 28, 2009 at 11:36 amIf I had to venture a guess I’d say Mad Men.
October 28, 2009 at 11:47 amAlyssa – the record cover is a digital collage from Christian who is in the band.
Hey Michael – not that current. What kind of pop culture dork am I to have a press photo for a TV show in my office anyway? You can have a poster regardless. e-send me an addy.
October 28, 2009 at 12:14 pmFTR I’ve never seen Mad Men. I was just deducing.
October 28, 2009 at 12:33 pmHmmm. Is the photo Mike Seaver from Growing Pains?
October 28, 2009 at 5:18 pmHa! Not Mike Seaver but a Growing Pains press shot is definitely the next thing going up on the wall!!! Getting closer on the era.
October 28, 2009 at 5:32 pmCan someone post the lyrics to Beach Town please?
October 28, 2009 at 10:13 pmTwin Peaks – i would recognize those doughnuts anywhere
November 6, 2009 at 1:01 pmJeff wins – which saves me on shipping given that our offices are a quarter mile apart… Michael has been a sad sack of late so he can win one too – haha.
November 6, 2009 at 2:28 pm
Hint on recognizing the photo – it is an iconic TV series.
October 28, 2009 at 10:42 am