by Ben Resnik

Figurines’ eponymous fourth studio album has a lot in common with another import from Denmark: Hamlet. Like the Dane, Figurines has a lot of ideas and a lot of drive but is often less than successful in bringing those ideas to fruition. Also unlike Hamlet (spoiler!), the album’s final track does not end in the gruesome death of every single band. Far from a tragedy, Figurines is a fairly solid album with a lot of room for improvement.

It’s easy to see Figurines’ promise in the opening track “Hanging from Above”, which manages to evoke the sliding vocals of Sunset Rubdown without detracting from the originality of the songwriting. This vocal delivery makes it difficult to grasp the melody at times, but the chorus always brings it back. The weak part of the song comes at the very end, when the simple but solid drumming that characterizes the rest of the album gives way to several bars of weird, lilting, and atonal string music before opening up into a harmony straight out of Of Montreal’s Hissing Fauna. It’s a bizarre shift, and it feels like it could have been a good, entirely separate song if it had been fleshed out more. As it is, “Hanging from Above” comes across as no more than a very good song.

This problem resurfaces in the second song, “The Great Unknown”. Like “Hanging from Above,” this track starts out very well, with lo-fi guitar, bass, and drums giving it an almost garage-rock feel and a catchy melody to boot, which then shifts into a rather unpleasant piano-and-falsetto bridge. The two melodies fight it out for the entirety of the song; the first wins, to the song’s ultimate benefit, but the result is a fractured piece that sounds like two catchy songs laid on top of each other. The lack of cohesion prevents it from evolving fully.

These perplexing sections aside, the instrumentation on Figurines is uniformly and consistently strong; drums, piano, bass, guitar, and an assortment of other instruments reinforce lead singer Christian Hjelm’s voice well. When it works, it works. “New Colors”, for example, is an excellent piece of surreal pop that brings back the Of Montreal comparisons, but in a way that feels more inspired-by than mimicked. “Free Today” takes the same melodically segmented approach as the first two numbers, but this time it works; it shows Figurines’ potential as a band: dreamlike and bizarre, but incurably catchy, and coherent if you squint a little.

Unfortunately, for every positive the band has, there’s a negative. While Figurines certainly share Of Montreal’s sound, the band lacks Kevin Barnes’ idiosyncratic lyrical genius. In “New Colors”, which owes so much to his influence, Hjelm bleats “If only my eyes could tell her what I plan to give her / If only my eyes could tell that we’ll never be the same.” This is not the poetry of the Bard, but then again, poetic perfection is clearly not Hjelm’s aim.

After awhile, though, the mediocrity of the lyrics gets distracting. “We Got Away” is a shift to a slower, heavier style, but what the band tries to sell as pathos comes off as trite. Figurines’ penchant for harmony keeps the music interesting, but when harmony is the main thing bolstering a song about deep emotional angst, you’ve got a problem with your angst.

As the album continues, the weakness of the songwriting grows more and more frustrating. In the middle of the album’s seventh track “Every Week”, I found myself browsing a shared music library that had popped up on my iTunes (the library’s unknown owner had excellent taste) because of the song’s tedious repetition. Then, the distractingly mediocre chorus in “Lucky to Love” (“All I want to do is to wake up and make it / All I want to do is to wake up and break it,” rinse, repeat) diminishes what would otherwise be an excellent song.

The most exasperating part of Hjelm’s lyrical failures is that he has proven more than capable of writing a decent line, even in this very same album. “Poughkeepsie” and “Unable to Drift” are both dark, interesting pieces that manage to deal with deeper material without abandoning the band’s energetic, distinctive vibe. Every poor image is made doubly worse by the promising one immediately before it.

You can chalk up a bad album to an off period for a band, later convincing yourself that they will redeem themselves on their next release. A mediocre album is a much more painful experience; the feeling that a couple extra weeks and a pep talk could have turned it all around makes the disappointing reality that much more difficult to move past. Still, Figurines has lessons both good and bad to teach to its maker. Like Hamlet, sometimes all it takes to live up to your potential is a setback.

Figurines – New Colors

Figurines – Hanging From Above

Figurines -The Great Unknown

Figurines – Lucky to Love

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The post Figurines – Figurines (2011) appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

by Ben Resnik

I am obsessed with Jeff Mangum.

I search out every crumb and kernel of information about the man I can find, and even have a saved search on Twitter dedicated to him and Neutral Milk Hotel. While few things turn up on that search besides “Jeff Mangum is great” and, more recently, “OH MAH GAWD HE’S BACK!!11!1!,” every now and then something interesting appears. One such thing I found was a snippet of a Twitter conversation in which a band called The Rural Alberta Advantage was compared to Jeff Mangum. Skeptical, I got myself a copy of their 2009 release Hometowns.

While it was no Aeroplane, after listening to Hometowns I had high expectations for the Canadian pseudo-folk group. I got a vibe similar to the one I feel with Neutral Milk Hotel’s first album, On Avery Island; it was not perfect by any means, but set the stage for future greatness well within the band’s capabilities. Now the RAA has released its second album, Departing, to slightly underwhelming reviews (read Mike’s here). The consensus is that the release is a plateau for the band. While it is not a poor release by any means, it doesn’t take the risks that would catapult lead singer Nils Edenloff and his band from modest success to indie-rock stardom. And to better understand why, perhaps now is the time to look again to Hometowns for clues about where the Advantage could and should be going.

The opener, “The Ballad of the RAA”, feels like the band’s native element. The lyrics are given the attentively polished characteristic of folk songs, even as the sound wraps itself in a warm blanket of synth pads. To top off is Paul Banwatt’s mood-setting drumming, which feels technically miles ahead of the other instrumentation. The disparity manages to work to the band’s advantage, and this is where the Neutral Milk Hotel comparisons are most accurate; Jeremy Barnes was a virtuoso drummer, which allowed the other members to explore an astute musical passion for melody while resting on a solid foundation of technical skill. The same is true here. The merits of Edenloff’s off-key yelping and the simple instrumentation are made acceptable and appreciable when balanced against Banwatt’s powerhouse drumming.

The high point of the album is the heart-wrenching “Don’t Haunt This Place.” Edenloff’s songwriting is at its most poignant, with lyrics like “And the things we never had, and the things we wish would come back/ Because we need this oh so bad, because I need this oh so bad.” The drums keep punching, and the instrumentals lend a perfect backdrop to the song’s vivid emotion. Best of all, it is repetitive in all the right ways. The RAA have gotten some flak for being repetitive, especially since Departing. But on songs like this, that repetition is an integral part, and magnifies its power instead of diminishing it.

That being said, repetition – both of lyric and of structure – is the Advantage’s major flaw, and can be seen in any number of songs on either album. The band has found something it’s good at and is sticking with it. It is first seen on “The Dethbridge to Lethbridge”, which is done very well; the vocals are strong, the lyrics are solid, and the dominant drums and simple guitar gives it the feel of a head-bobbing indie-rock standard. But then it continues. “The Deadroads,” “Drain the Blood,” “Luciana;”  are all all solid songs, but grow pale over time due to their lack of variance among the subject matter; the fact that they play successively does not help. On this their debut album, and even on Departing, the songs work well, but it’s setting a bad precedent. Critics not pushing them to explore their subject and style have made the RAA a little too comfortable with what they’ve got.

The closing song, “In the Summertime,” shows what the band is capable of. The drum supports instead of drives, and the focus falls back to where it should be: Edenloff’s vocals, which are as thoughtful and full of insight as anywhere else on the album. One of the pitfalls of any good band is resting on its laurels, and the RAA has been cursed by finding a style it is good at, but not great. Still, the band has the component parts for greatness. Edenloff has a wonderful voice with an amateur appeal, along the lines of Mangum or Kristian Matsson, and the words with which to use it. Departing has gotten the chiding that Hometowns did not, and that any gifted child needs when they don’t do their homework. Now that the Rural Alberta Advantage has been shown it is prone to human mistakes, it can get back to the fresh, powerful articulation of humanity that it is so very capable of.

RIYL: The Mountain Goats, Dan Mangan, R.E.M., The Wooden Sky, Arms, We Were Promised Jetpacks, Frightened Rabbit, The Antlers, Said the Whale, Harlem Shakes, Titus Andronicus, Phoenix, The French Kicks, Plant and Animals, The Weakerthans, Freelance Whales, Blind Pilot, The Acorn

The Rural Alberta Advantage – Don’t Haunt This Place

The Rural Alberta Advantage – The Ballad Of The RAA

The Rural Alberta Advantage – The Dethbridge In Lethbridge

The Rural Alberta Advantage – Edmonton

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The best way to get a feel for a band is to hear them live. It’s a great way to start a review, too; the presentation is a vivid description of the group’s power onstage, a retelling of the moment you realized that driving all the way out to see the show was worth it. Sadly, very few people had the opportunity to hear The Chairs live, or at all. The Appleton, Wisconsin band broke up in 2009, not long after the release of their second full-length album, Laugh, It’s a Fright, and became one of those innumerable groups that should have been, and would have been, much more.

The Chairs’ Facebook fan page, populated by 71 diehards, describes the band as if “Wilco and Radiohead met in Andrew Bird’s barn and then invited over Death Cab for Cutie.” And to an extent, that’s correct; at their best, the Chairs combine the emotional presence of Wilco’s lyrics with Radiohead’s habit of exploring fascinating electronic fuzz. Simply being like other bands is not enough, though. They may not have realized it while together, but The Chairs have something more. Next to each easily comparable romp stands another song… a brief, quiet, often beautiful piece, like a shy, genius little brother. These are the pieces pieces that will bring listeners to Laugh, It’s a Fright, and back again.

The first three songs on the album are by no means perfect. The opener, “This Isn’t a Fire Fortress,” emerges from cacophony into lead singer Alex Schaaf’s distinctive voice in a way reminiscent of the beginning of Neutral Milk Hotel’s “Two Headed Boy Pt. 2”. This song and its successors “Go Ahead, I Dare You To” and “Horse with Hoof Guns” manage to strike a balance between the driving percussion and Schaaf’s delicate voice in a way that makes the songs supremely listenable, and damn catchy. Still, “catchy” only goes so far. The songs seem not entirely sure of which direction to go. A good example is “Horse with Hoof Guns”. While good fun, it leaves listeners confused over what exactly just happened. They are the hallmarks of a band with a lot of potential and innate talent, but ultimately in need of a few more years to really find their voice.

The fourth track, “No Fingers,” is when Laugh, It’s a Fright truly begins. The album comes to a slamming halt, switches direction, and walks pointedly forward. Alex Schaaf’s voice has a Conor Oberst-like quality inherent; he always sounds on the verge of tears. “No Fingers” is a gorgeous exploration of loss and betrayal. The lyrics are poignant and heartbreaking, and the song’s simplicity gives listeners the time they needed to hear The Chairs at their most stripped-down, direct, and beautiful. This is the point where the band ceases to be pleasant background indie-roc. Finally, it makes you sit up and listen.

After “No Fingers,” the hits keep coming. “The Hipster” picks up where the previous song left off both musically and emotionally, dismissing “the pawnshop man and all of his friends” just as they dismissed him. This song is back up to the tempo and energy of the first three, but this time carries with it an urgency and emotional drive they didn’t have. “Crooked Concubines” holds the key to the album, introducing the true meaning of Laugh, It’s a Fright as a celebration of rebellion against the absurdity of the world, and enjoying life even during its lowest points. But the high point of the album comes with “Glamorous Sweat”. This brief song is The Chairs’ magnum opus, celebrating the beauty of what has been lost, and the immortality of things you cannot get back. With lyrics like, “In the night all the sweat is glamorous and holy oil / When it’s dark all the lights are hints of miracles from far away,” this is a song whose effectiveness speaks on its own accord.

Though The Chairs did say they were influenced by Neutral Milk Hotel, that influence goes deeper than music; it’s also in their character. Schaaf’s band is one of the few that deserves to have the mythos of the legend from Athens; they produced something beautiful, indicative of all they were capable of, and then disappeared before their time. Laugh, It’s a Fright is a success not just for the musical space it so powerfully filled, but for the musical space its creators will leave behind. The best way to get a feel for a band is to think about how you feel when you realize you will never hear them again.

RIYL: Neutral Milk Hotel, The Antlers, The Unicorns, Julian Nation, Modest Mouse, Sebadoh, Bright Eyes, The Olivia Tremor Control, Elf Power, Andrew Jackson Jihad, The Microphones, Modest Mouse, Of Montreal, The Apples in Stereo

The Chairs – This Isn’t a Fire Fortress

The Chairs – The Hipster

The Chairs – No Fingers

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