Wednesday September 8, 2010
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Acid Tongue BY Jenny Lewis 
Modern Guilt BY Beck 
Volume One: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails BY The Baseball Project 
CSNY/Déjà Vu Live BY Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young  
Fleet Foxes BY Fleet Foxes 
Don’t Do Anything BY Sam Phillips
@#%&*! Smilers BY Aimee Mann
Anywhere I Lay My Head BY Scarlett Johansson
Rockferry BY Duffy
Boo! BY Was (Not Was)
Attack & Release BY The Black Keys
Shine A Light BY The Rolling Stones
Mudcrutch BY Mudcrutch
Keep It Simple BY Van Morrison
Yael Naim & David Donatien BY Yael Naim & David Donatien

Fleet Foxes BY Fleet Foxes  0

Sub Pop/Warner
Reviewed by Adam D. Miller
  

One of the key musical elements missing from much of today’s musical landscape comes in the form of vocal harmonies.  In the 1960s, bands like The Beatles, Crosby Stills & Nash and The Beach Boys were popular not only for their top-notch songwriting, but also their cunning ability to meld their voices in a way that was both haunting and beautiful.

Five-piece Seattle band Fleet Foxes have placed vocal harmonies at the forefront of their debut, self-titled LP.  It’s clear from the get-go that lead singer-songwriter Robin Pecknold grew up listening to his parents’ record collection, though an appreciation for contemporary artists like Band of Horses and Animal Collective is also pretty evident.

Pecknold and Co. wear these influences well, but it doesn’t get in the way of their autumnal songwriting and performance style.  Although we hear hints of CSN and Brian Wilson (the a cappella intro of “Sun It Rises” sounds like it could have easily been spawned from Smile’s “Our Prayer”) throughout Fleet Foxes, the acoustic guitar and often-haunting vocals help define the band’s own unique sound.

It’s the second track, “White Winter Hymnal,” that defines Fleet Foxes as something truly remarkable.  The acoustic and percussive backing is simple at first, as no less than four separate voices sing a challenging vocal part before the rest of the band kicks into high gear with  a fuller sound that can only be compared to the opening credits of an epic motion picture.  The vocals stay strong for the upbeat and rollicking “Ragged Wood” before moving into “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song,” a stunning ballad that evokes both Ron Sexsmith and Nick Drake.

A later highpoint of the album is “Blue Ridge Mountains.”  Like the earlier songs on the album, the song uses haunting vocal harmonies and descriptive lyrics to paint a picture in the minds of the listener.  Throughout history there have been plenty of albums that evoke seasonal feelings.  Fleet Foxes is bound to be an appropriate soundtrack not just for the summer, but the spring, fall and winter as well.

As with any new band, hype may grab hold of Fleet Foxes and challenge the critic and listener alike to stay with the band through its bouts of overexposure and overhype.  After the dust settles, one can only hope that Fleet Foxes is an album that we’ll continue to listen to in thirty years, alongside Pet Sounds and Déjà vu.

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