Fruit Bats - Tripper

The preoccupations that Eric D. Johnson chews over on Fruit Bats’ fifth record are summed up pretty much perfectly on Tripper’s cover: a small band of antelope stand on a sun-dappled prairie, a dirt track disappearing over a low hill below a big sky, cumulus roiling gigantic away towards the horizon. It’s so striking that Sub Pop have been thoughtful enough to blow it up times five on the accompanying fold-out poster-cum-lyric-sheet – normally these things aren’t worth commenting on, but if ever an image said ‘freedom’, this is it.

On 2009’s excellent The Ruminant Band, Johnson threw the emphasis of his one-time solo project onto the talents of Fruit Bats’ full band; with Tripper he’s wound it back a bit, biting off harder, richer, but lonelier fare. Unlike the invented mythology of fellow indie folksters Blitzen Trapper, or the meandering musings of Vetiver’s Andy Cabic (whose longtime producer Thom Monahan has done a stellar job here), Johnson spins rangy yarns of characters seeking a path into the wide blue yonder.

‘Tony The Tripper’ sets the score: life led on the fly and chance meetings with random sorts, over a simple propulsive riff and Johnson’s Robert Plant-ish cries. These ideas are also covered on ‘Heart Like An Orange’, or the organ-powered ditty ‘Dolly’, an equally organ-powered persona talking the title lass into hitting the road… The flip-side to giving free-rein to feet with a mind of their own – expulsion to the “fucked up world” – is charted in a surprisingly effective Bee Gees falsetto in ‘The Banishment Song’. But as he sings in late album highlight ‘Wild Honey’, “to own nobody / to owe nobody” is, for some, an end in itself.

For Johnson freedom comes at a price, but it’s one that is ultimately worth paying. Much like this excellent record.


First published in The Brag, Iss. 425, August 15th 2011

Vetiver - The Errant Charm

The Errant Charm is Vetiver’s fifth full-length release since their self-titled debut back in 2004. The first two largely lived up to the freak-folk moniker that rubbed off from a productive symbiotic relationship with Devendra Banhart, playing The Band to his Dylan, before Vetiver’s songsmith Andy Cabic flaunted his musical erudition with Thing Of The Past – an unassuming but sublime collection of covers of the folk-pop of yesteryear (c. ’68-’73). 2009’s Tight Knit bore the fruits of this back catalogue-mining, and Cabic’s latest collection continues the trend; it’s an exquisitely mellow crop of chillaxed day-glo pop.

Opener ‘It’s Beyond Me’ sets the tone, with Cabic “just a passerby” watching “shameless games”; “I used to understand them / til the rules were changed” he sings, vocals blending inconspicuously into the mix, washed over by quavering licks of pedal steel before Cabic ultimately admits defeat with a bemused smile in the face of the world’s fickle moods, remaining aloof in a world of his own. Things don’t stay downbeat for long, as Cabic muses on receiving the blunt end of reality’s stick (‘Wonder Why’) or getting ready to fight back (‘Can’t You Tell’), with both tracks benefiting from his talent for concocting instantly catchy hooks.

Elsewhere, ‘Right Away’ exhibits pleasing country inflections, though nowhere near the degree of the pounding stomp of ‘Ride Ride Ride’ – it would be difficult to accuse Cabic of originality, but that’s hardly the purpose of the exercise. Before its dissolution in the lava-lamp-lit glow of ‘Soft Glass’, The Errant Charm manages to encapsulate the spirit of searching whimsy that’s suggested by its title.

The Errant Charm is a record that demands to be lived with, its depths slowly revealed a dozen spins down the line.


First published in The Brag, Iss. 417, June 20th 2011