“I miss the Spaghetti Warehouse. Why aren’t we playing in the Spaghetti Warehouse?” – Chris Keating’s Friday introduction to a sold out crowd at a Yeasayer homecoming (1/3 accurate).
The longevity of a band can sometimes be revealed with the release of its third album.
When Yeasayer‘s All Hour Symbols came out in 2007, it was a breakthrough in a newly founded genre of Indie-Psych-Pop. It was a rhythm-based and melodically thoughtful album, and it felt somewhat animalistic to be drawn to the pounding percussions produced by such a young act. Reminiscent of the sounds one might have expected in background of the Last of the Mohicans, the band progressively morphed it into the realms and textures that would’ve been found in the 10010011101’s of the Matrix trilogy. As music and the times change, a band will adapt with the times and the audience. They consider their audience, before recognizing that they had one waiting. The music-maker factory, that is – the musically-enchanted, band-breeding Brooklyn was just getting started, then.
While All Hour Symbols brought us out of a daze of the similar-sounding, 2010’s Odd Blood served more as a back-peddle and a catch-up. An album trying too hard to compete out of their bracket with the likes of the Rhianna’s and the bass driven club hits of the world, and neglecting the fact that they had milled a sound of their own, it felt instead as though each member took a stab at the writing without doing a lot of listening.
There was nothing left to the imagination here, and the heat was then on to not join MGMT at the back of the line that they helped form.
We waited, instead, for the charm of a third. Time would tell. With its hopeful return to the tribe where they grew up, a Fragrant World was this.
And on the Fifth day, The Sayers of Yea created color. And brought it on tour. Continue reading →