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| Track list: 1. Eventually 2. Buffalo 3. Flock of Hearts 4. Pot 5. Bitte Bitte 6. Skeleton 7. Orange & Mango 8. Bailey's Beach 9. Wonton 10. Golden Ship Running time: 42 minutes Released: 2011 |
A favourite now. I remember getting this when it came out in the UK - I think some time after it had been out in their native New Zealand (yes, I am using Kiwi as the nationality tag). I don't recall what prompted me to get it because whilst I had heard of The Phoenix Foundation, and already had Horsepower (and/or Pegasus, I'm not sure which) I hadn't been that impressed with what I had heard. I am very glad I did though; Buffalo was one of my favourite releases from 2011, and it led me to a great gig and several more TPF albums.
Eventually starts with a mellow spacey introduction, a detached-sounding voice joining it. It's a low-key opener. Despite being on holiday I have not had a chance to do any of this for the past week, spending time swimming and eating at beachfront tavernas instead and trying to put thoughts of the horror of Brexit out of my mind to mixed success. My vacation has but a few days left to run, and I am now back with stable internet and more free time for the remainder to enjoy things like music. The tones here remain other-worldly, echo-y, throughout. It's music to relax to, gentle swells, like the waves around Naxos where I passed the week. I do think that, perhaps, it runs a little long. Whilst lush, the tune doesn't have that much in the way of engagement to it to justify the 5+ minute length.
The title track is, thankfully, a little more peppy, with a nice simple riff and a higher tempo. The vocal still carries elements of echoing harmonics, a reference point against the preceding number, but the track as a whole has a very different feel. It is fun, but nonsense. Buffalo in the ocean... what? In general I would prefer more meaningful lyrics rather than any old gubbins put up to make the right line structure or fit to the chords already committed. I hadn't realised this before but the album cover hints at this whacky idea.
I think the core of the album is the next few tracks. Flock of Hearts is a gentle roll, a sort of super-laid back tune that actually manages an effortless cool in a way that Jack Johnson just failed to for me. There is just a little more richness in the sound without being overwhelming - little riffs or sections that lift it, and more interplay between the elements. The star turn though is Pot. This song just kills it, a really catchy base structure and then a sublime harmonised vocal. The way the layers sit over and under each other is just perfect. I can't really hear the intricacies fully here - or at least, the experience is a little dulled compared to when I first heard it - but when the wandering electronics come in as an in-between line it takes off, the three elements setting each other off perfectly. It also closes before you get bored of the gorgeous harmony and start wanting something more substantial. A glorious number.
Catchy rhythm is the basis for Bitte Bitte. Its not rocket science, its not the most accomplished songwriting, but it is effective. Tempo, structure, and variation. The lyrics are a play on words (one that doesn't really work too well for me), and veer into nonsense more than I would like, but they fit the crucible they are offered well enough. I am less a fan of how the song concludes though, ooh-oohing its way out. There is a change of tone and feel for Skeleton; it's a little janky and spooky, but the vocal floats out nicely over the wind-effect. The chorus is a little bleak (burning bodies in the fields); this is not a carefree track. I rather like the tonal contrast with what has come before - and what follows; that light and dark, off and on, yin and yang. Too much of the same thing gets dull.
What comes next is light and silly. Orange & Mango is happy and clappy, a bop-along feelgood tune despite - again - utterly weird and nonsense lyrics. The chorus ("It takes two to tango, like an orange and a mango") is infectious and its hard to be too churlish about the words on this project when I can only report on them because I know them ahead of the listen. This track - like the album as a whole, and probably like The Phoenix Foundation's overall portfolio - is a mood piece.
Painting emotions with music rather than writing killer songs; there is certainly a place for this approach.
We come down again now, lower key, slower tempo. Almost soporific, but relaxingly so rather than boringly. Its a calm little drift on a gentle current. Little blooms in the music functioning as localised currents in a stream, adjusting the flow and direction. Like watching water run and swirl, it's easy to get carried along, submitting to the low-care nature. I have never met an up-tight Kiwi; whilst there must be some, a natural and easy-going approach seems to be a national trait.
Wonton raises the tempo a little, but only enough to trap you in a faster flowing stream which will soothe and carry you to relaxation as much as the slower numbers. I find myself trapped in the main riff, excluding the trills this time. The natural cadence of these tunes is perfectly judged. They is no forcing anything, they flow, they sway, they just are. The final number has a lusher sound; the vocal is detached again, as has been a common thread on this work, but the overall feel to Golden Ship is very different from Eventually despite sharing these traits. There is more purpose here, a stronger driving force behind the drum and guitar base that the spacier sounds absorb and surround. It's not a quick piece by any means but it is a more directed one. The opening tune was free to drift, this moves with purpose.
There are many, many holes in this album that actual music critics would probably fall over themselves to poke through, but for me it just works. The rich, lush, layered sounds entice and entwine me, and make the album as a whole a very comforting and familiar friend. Pot, though, stands head and shoulders above any other tune here; it is just a wonderful 3 and a half minutes that I wish I could share with more people. Oh, wait; I don't normally do this, but:
Video is weird as hell, mind.
Eventually starts with a mellow spacey introduction, a detached-sounding voice joining it. It's a low-key opener. Despite being on holiday I have not had a chance to do any of this for the past week, spending time swimming and eating at beachfront tavernas instead and trying to put thoughts of the horror of Brexit out of my mind to mixed success. My vacation has but a few days left to run, and I am now back with stable internet and more free time for the remainder to enjoy things like music. The tones here remain other-worldly, echo-y, throughout. It's music to relax to, gentle swells, like the waves around Naxos where I passed the week. I do think that, perhaps, it runs a little long. Whilst lush, the tune doesn't have that much in the way of engagement to it to justify the 5+ minute length.
The title track is, thankfully, a little more peppy, with a nice simple riff and a higher tempo. The vocal still carries elements of echoing harmonics, a reference point against the preceding number, but the track as a whole has a very different feel. It is fun, but nonsense. Buffalo in the ocean... what? In general I would prefer more meaningful lyrics rather than any old gubbins put up to make the right line structure or fit to the chords already committed. I hadn't realised this before but the album cover hints at this whacky idea.
I think the core of the album is the next few tracks. Flock of Hearts is a gentle roll, a sort of super-laid back tune that actually manages an effortless cool in a way that Jack Johnson just failed to for me. There is just a little more richness in the sound without being overwhelming - little riffs or sections that lift it, and more interplay between the elements. The star turn though is Pot. This song just kills it, a really catchy base structure and then a sublime harmonised vocal. The way the layers sit over and under each other is just perfect. I can't really hear the intricacies fully here - or at least, the experience is a little dulled compared to when I first heard it - but when the wandering electronics come in as an in-between line it takes off, the three elements setting each other off perfectly. It also closes before you get bored of the gorgeous harmony and start wanting something more substantial. A glorious number.
Catchy rhythm is the basis for Bitte Bitte. Its not rocket science, its not the most accomplished songwriting, but it is effective. Tempo, structure, and variation. The lyrics are a play on words (one that doesn't really work too well for me), and veer into nonsense more than I would like, but they fit the crucible they are offered well enough. I am less a fan of how the song concludes though, ooh-oohing its way out. There is a change of tone and feel for Skeleton; it's a little janky and spooky, but the vocal floats out nicely over the wind-effect. The chorus is a little bleak (burning bodies in the fields); this is not a carefree track. I rather like the tonal contrast with what has come before - and what follows; that light and dark, off and on, yin and yang. Too much of the same thing gets dull.
What comes next is light and silly. Orange & Mango is happy and clappy, a bop-along feelgood tune despite - again - utterly weird and nonsense lyrics. The chorus ("It takes two to tango, like an orange and a mango") is infectious and its hard to be too churlish about the words on this project when I can only report on them because I know them ahead of the listen. This track - like the album as a whole, and probably like The Phoenix Foundation's overall portfolio - is a mood piece.
Painting emotions with music rather than writing killer songs; there is certainly a place for this approach.
We come down again now, lower key, slower tempo. Almost soporific, but relaxingly so rather than boringly. Its a calm little drift on a gentle current. Little blooms in the music functioning as localised currents in a stream, adjusting the flow and direction. Like watching water run and swirl, it's easy to get carried along, submitting to the low-care nature. I have never met an up-tight Kiwi; whilst there must be some, a natural and easy-going approach seems to be a national trait.
Wonton raises the tempo a little, but only enough to trap you in a faster flowing stream which will soothe and carry you to relaxation as much as the slower numbers. I find myself trapped in the main riff, excluding the trills this time. The natural cadence of these tunes is perfectly judged. They is no forcing anything, they flow, they sway, they just are. The final number has a lusher sound; the vocal is detached again, as has been a common thread on this work, but the overall feel to Golden Ship is very different from Eventually despite sharing these traits. There is more purpose here, a stronger driving force behind the drum and guitar base that the spacier sounds absorb and surround. It's not a quick piece by any means but it is a more directed one. The opening tune was free to drift, this moves with purpose.
There are many, many holes in this album that actual music critics would probably fall over themselves to poke through, but for me it just works. The rich, lush, layered sounds entice and entwine me, and make the album as a whole a very comforting and familiar friend. Pot, though, stands head and shoulders above any other tune here; it is just a wonderful 3 and a half minutes that I wish I could share with more people. Oh, wait; I don't normally do this, but:
Video is weird as hell, mind.
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