Feral Children's Brand New Blood

Track List:
1. "Kid Origami" - 4:14
2. "Castrato" - 4:27
3. "Group Home" - 5:01
4. "Rivers of Forever" - 4:17
5. "On a Frozen Beach" - 4:04
6. "Conveyor" - 4:49
7. "Universe Design" - 3:53
8. "Inside the Night" - 3:35
9. "Woodland Mutts" - 3:00
10. "Enchanted Parkway" - 2:48

As the new millennium presses on (are we really into double digits already?) it’s only getting harder and harder to make a splash on the indie music scene. It almost seems like you have to be a brilliantly reclusive musicologist like Andrew Bird or Beirut or just complete weirdoes like Animal Collective to really make a name for yourself. Then again, you can always just tack on some extra musicians like Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene or Polyphonic Spree. The latter solution might just be what the Feral Children need. Their debut was at its best at the apex of the spittle spewing mosh ready cock-rock, so why not just take a page out of Andrew W.K.’s playbook and add some more guitar? I mean, they’ve already got two drummers, if you’re gonna do something, do it right. It worked for fellow pacific rockers Built to spill – I’m not expecting that level of musicianship, just a little more throttle. Let’s be honest, we’re not coming back for the moving lyrics or melodies, and that’s not a strike against them. “Spy/Glass House,” the debut’s opener, flirts with full blown metal but doesn’t quite get there, and that’s exactly where the Feral Children should live. But, I guess that level of domestication would go against their very nature.

It’s no wonder these guys draw comparisons to groups like Built to Spill and Modest Mouse, reproducing that post-grunge west coast sound was essentially their mission statement. I’m not asking for them to pick a genre, I just want them to keep up the intensity. These guys are the musical equivalent to the drunkest guy at a party; they’re a lot of fun in small doses, but hang around too long and the act starts to wear on you. Cotton and Kessler can go scream for scream with Isaac Brock, Stephen Malkmus – anybody really. But the slower, dronier tracks are the equivalent of the kicked-keg sobering lamentations that really aren’t that poignant or interesting. These guys just don’t have the vocal chops or the instrumental prowess to go from Lonesome Crowded West to The Moon and Antarctica. Well, it’s been a few years since the debut Second to the Last Frontier (or Good News for People Who Love Bad Imitations), so let’s hope they’ve found their way out of the absolutely towering shadows of their northwestern predecessors.

Brand New Blood starts off with the striking “Kid Origami” which really challenges my preconceptions about these guys. There’s a definitive sense of maturity lyrically and musically, but without sacrificing their energy (re: background hell yeahs). For the first time, I actually find myself singing along to the chorus with no sense of irony. The passion is still ostensibly present, but they finally manage to pull off restraint without it feeling awkward. “Castrato” follows suit with its lush songscape and so many “woos” you might just think you’ve drifted into a TV on the Radio record. But soon enough, old feelings reemerge and “Group Home” starts to get a little exhausting. From there the album devolves into a meandering whine fest that reaffirms my conviction that the Feral Children really ought to stay away from the slackened tempo. I didn’t decide to call them Feral, that was their call. If I’d had my druthers, I’d have voted Arrogant Rats and they would have been the greatest Modest Mouse cover band ever (sorry Sun Kil Moon).

The brightest spots on this album after the first two tracks are “Conveyors,” which is the best effort for their new style, and “Enchanted Parkway,” which feel the most like a Frontier throwback. Three years ago, it seemed like the Children were setting out to reinvigorate a scene heading in the far less ass-kicking/face-punching direction of The Shins, Fleet Foxes, The Dodos, etc. (which is not to say these bands don’t kick ass). Now it seems more like the so-called Feral ones are peering through the windows of the bands they swore they’d never be.

Local Natives' Gorilla Manor

Track List:
1. "Wide eyes" - 4:28
2. "Airplanes" - 4:00
3. "Sun Hands" - 4:53
4. "World News" - 4:32
5. "Shape Shifter" - 5:31
6. "Camera Talk" - 3:45
7. "Cards and Quarters" - 4:00
8. "Warning Sign" - 4:12
9. "Who Knows Who Cares" - 3:56
10. "Cubism Dream" - 4:01
11. "Stranger Things" - 5:47
12. "Sticky Thread" - 3:48

The Local Natives have been generating a lot of noise, and I’m not just referring to their debut Gorilla Manor. Most of the buzz was generated by their showing at last year’s SXSW festival in Austin, Texas. At this point, I feel obligated to mention the onslaught of Arcade Fire and Fleet Foxes comparisons these guys have garnered. Fleet Foxes, I get, but the Arcade Fire references are a little more confusing. It might be the raw energy they unleash onstage (just ask YouTube), but aside from that, I don’t really understand the connection. So let’s take the Fleet Foxes, and add a little more soul – something along the lines of Yeasayer’s All Hour Cymbals, a band who also caught our collective attention at SXSW. Perhaps the logic behind Arcade Fire comparisons is similar to my Yeasayer reasoning in the unmistakable flashes of chamber pop that permeate Gorilla Manor in sporadic and delightful moments, or perhaps it’s Local Natives obvious ambition that keeps said reference popping up in all sorts of reviews. Whatever the reasoning, there is certainly cause for the constant comparisons. As good as this album can be, and as impressive as some of the moments therein certainly are, it’s a little difficult to see Gorilla Manor as a whole lot more than a string of moments. If anything, the album might be a little overly ambitious.

But then again, maybe the problem is it’s just not ambitious enough. I was completely on board with this band, their sound and the album until I got to “Cards and Quarters.” The first six tracks seem to slowly evolve from the elusive opener, “Wide Eyes,” into the more obviously afro-pop influenced “World News” and the Fleet Foxes sounding “Shape Shifter” and “Camera Talk.” But then we have “Cards and Quarters” which totally deflates all of the momentum built up in the first half of the album. It’s not that I am anti-slow jam – I’m a big fan of “Who Knows Who Cares.” “Cards and Quarters” isn’t totally out of step with their sound, but it’s certainly the weakest part of it. That track and the closer, “Sticky Thread,” can be done away with altogether. They’re just too obvious, and the best part of this album is the unobvious, as in the scream break in “Sun Hands” and the frantic chorus of the Talking Heads cover, “Warning Sign.” Some reviewers have been accusing the Local Natives of drawing too heavily on influences without accurately defining themselves, but the Talking Heads cover alone proves to me the verity of this band’s sound.

I just think citing a lack of originality is, well, unoriginal – but it’s also lazy. There is plenty of originality to go around through these twelve tracks, the biggest problem is in the arrangement. Had I been a heavier influence in the production (what’s up guys, I thought we were down?), I would have made “Who Knows Who Cares” the closer, eliminated the two aforementioned weak links and called for a more explosive climax in “Camera Talk.” A few of those scream breaks and some of that delectably hectic drumming really would have taken this track from pretty okay to outstanding and done a lot for the overall flow. As Gorilla Manor stands, it just sort of peters out. It’s hard to give “Cubism Dream” and “Stranger Things” due credit after the attention severing “Cards and Quarters.” “Airplanes” with all of its haunting desperation is utterly moving. That track and the following “Sun Hands,” the first single, are likely to be the only tracks you remember.

The cover art alone makes it pretty clear that these guys are going to be hard to define. Heads exploding into splattering colors actually represents their intentions pretty well. My only wish is that they followed through with the evolution of their sound from disquieting chamber pop into the more harmonious Talking Heads inspired afro-pop. You just can’t start pushing the bar if you don’t have a destination in mind. Swing and a miss, but don’t count the Local Natives out just yet.