Or the Whale's Self Titled
Track List:
1. "No Love Blues" - 3:34
2. "Datura" - 3:08
3. "Rusty Gold" - 3:43
4. "Never Coming Out" - 3:45
5. "Count the Stars" - 5:08
6. "Keep Me Up" - 4:15
7. "Black Rabbit" - 4:14
8. "Giving Up Time" - 2:36
9. "Shasta" - 4:13
10. "Terrible Pain" - 3:55
11. "No Death" - 3:49
The accessibility and timelessness of Americana, as a genre, is its best and worst quality. The simplicity can lead to very relaxing and enjoyable music, but it can also lead to the dreaded “easy listening” classification. It is not a controversial statement that music ought to be engaging, and often that means challenging genres. At their best on the debut Lights, Poles and Pines, Or the Whale are downright jug-bandian. Tracks like “Threads” and “Bound to Go Home” demonstrate the appeal of their live performances, which are unquestionably their bread and butter. Over the banjo hooks, and the bouncing bass lines with shuffling percussion, the band layers 5 and 6 part harmonies reminiscent of Tilly and the Wall. “Gonna Have To” exemplifies their ingenuity with preexisting templates, using dueling slide guitars to set off the heart string tugging vocal duet, pulling it all together with a humble organ riff. Though they never really push the envelope too far, they kindle enough requisite melody to pull it off.
It’s been 2 years and countless gigs since the debut, and Or the Whale have evidently learned the value of fastidious arrangement. Maybe a band like the White Stripes can get away with laying down an album in an extended weekend, but with Or the Whale’s sheer mass as a seven piece, these things take time. The result is a much smarter album, largely sidestepping the pratfall of the sophomore slump. The band has demonstrated an aptitude for more than the primal porch stompers, whether it’s the transformation of Led Zeppelin’s murky rock ballad “No Quarter” into the mournful pedal steel tinged “Keep Me Up,” or the manifest maturity of the hopefully future prom closer “Count the Stars.” The full color of their musical spectrum can be determined between the unflinching rock-star swagger of “Black Rabbit” and the disarmingly effortless country crooning of “Datura.” The problem is they both come off, in not contrived, at least a little forced. Each track is one or two riffs away from being something really special, but as it stands, they both fall a little flat.
While Or the Whale remain head and shoulders above many of their Americana contemporaries, they still haven’t realized their full potential. The care they’ve taken on this album to highlight each instrument has transformed the Americana patchwork of the debut into a rich tapestry of musicians who sound like they were born playing together. But while every defining moment of their earlier work was a hand wrought marvel, this album’s moments seem more mechanical. While the end result is much smoother and efficiently produced, you can’t help but yearn for that old world craftsmanship. Once these guys figure out how to infuse their understated concurrence with their organic off the cuff charm, they’ll truly achieve the folk juggernaut status they deserve.