This album should win an award for succeeding in spite of its cover. That is one ugly-ass sleeve. Maybe it did so well because it was an entirely awesome experiment in genre-hopping, or maybe sparkly gold vomit is big in NYC. Couldn’t tell you.
Another great record from Okkervil River. At first, I didn’t know why this album didn’t get more love, but I think I get it now–it’s pretty similar to The Stage Names. That’s definitely not a bad thing, but I guess that familiarity makes it harder to get excited. Either way, Will Shef’s mournful lyrics are balanced by an upbeat band that keeps people dancing instead of moping, and the band keeps going.
Did anyone expect this? Portishead reunites after something like 34 years and they’re awesome? I know I didn’t–despite hearing good things, I slept on this album until maybe a month ago. I feel damn silly for that now, but at least I got around to it. I also like the album cover, though I think its simplicity worked against it–I expected another s(t)olid album upon seeing a clean, minimal design. Talk about head-fakes.
This album charges frantically between crackling punk songs and dreamy interludes, all in less than three minutes. It’s intoxicating 200-proof rock, filtered through pure feedback.
God, this album opens with a bang. “Constructive Summer” should be pretty much required summer listening for any student/recent grad/quarter-life-crisis sufferer unsure about their plans. I could listen to this track for an hour without getting sick of it. Luckily for those around me, the rest of the album is almost as good–Finn’s storytelling is still top-notch and the songs still rock.