iconocaust (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} iconocaust) wrote,@ 2007-08-02 13:06:00 |
|
Album Rack
THE CORAL - ROOTS AND ECHOES
Thanks for the memories.
It's an unwritten law of music that any artist who starts their career churning out envelope-pushing DIY experiments invariably goes one of three ways: take the Captain Beefheart route and continue to issue one messy LP every couple of months, follow the Beta Band's lead and temper those anarchic impulses in favor of a coherent listening experience, or do what Badly Drawn Boy did back in '02 and smother anything remotely interesting about your music in the name of airplay.
The Coral fall squarely into category three. Having systematically excised the wilder portions of their early output in recent years in favor of a polished but oddly soulless take on '60s-era psychedelic folk, titling an album Roots and Echoes is something of a cruel joke -- the only echoes here are those of an intriguing band's last vestiges of weirdness being put out to pasture. As for the "roots," the songs on display here may hew closer to The Coral's long list of influences -- maybe a little too much so, given the bits brazenly lifted from Simon & Garfunkel and the Byrds -- but lack the polychromatic chaos of earlier albums, the odd touches of "Scallydelica" that put this band on the map in the first place.
And as frustrating as Skelly and co's newfound devotion to artistic mediocrity may be, R&E packs just enough tunes to defy outright dismissal. The forlorn funk and dramatic string interludes of "Music At Night" tower above anything on Magic and Medicine, while tracks like "Cobwebs" or the ersatz-Bond stylings of "Fireflies" have a quiet beauty that's hard to deny. But those highs only serve to highlight the lack of energy and fun seen in earlier outings; as great as Skelly's doe-eyed, sad-sack romanticism can be in small doses, there's precious little respite from the wearingly "authentic" folk that permeates the album from beginning to end.
Sadly, Roots and Echoes seems destined to become the template for new Coral releases in years to come -- competent but unexciting, just unusual enough to avoid mainstream success but too mainstream for genuine indie credibility. Still, look at the bright side: at least it's not Born in the UK.
3
THE CORAL - ROOTS AND ECHOES
Thanks for the memories.
It's an unwritten law of music that any artist who starts their career churning out envelope-pushing DIY experiments invariably goes one of three ways: take the Captain Beefheart route and continue to issue one messy LP every couple of months, follow the Beta Band's lead and temper those anarchic impulses in favor of a coherent listening experience, or do what Badly Drawn Boy did back in '02 and smother anything remotely interesting about your music in the name of airplay.
The Coral fall squarely into category three. Having systematically excised the wilder portions of their early output in recent years in favor of a polished but oddly soulless take on '60s-era psychedelic folk, titling an album Roots and Echoes is something of a cruel joke -- the only echoes here are those of an intriguing band's last vestiges of weirdness being put out to pasture. As for the "roots," the songs on display here may hew closer to The Coral's long list of influences -- maybe a little too much so, given the bits brazenly lifted from Simon & Garfunkel and the Byrds -- but lack the polychromatic chaos of earlier albums, the odd touches of "Scallydelica" that put this band on the map in the first place.
And as frustrating as Skelly and co's newfound devotion to artistic mediocrity may be, R&E packs just enough tunes to defy outright dismissal. The forlorn funk and dramatic string interludes of "Music At Night" tower above anything on Magic and Medicine, while tracks like "Cobwebs" or the ersatz-Bond stylings of "Fireflies" have a quiet beauty that's hard to deny. But those highs only serve to highlight the lack of energy and fun seen in earlier outings; as great as Skelly's doe-eyed, sad-sack romanticism can be in small doses, there's precious little respite from the wearingly "authentic" folk that permeates the album from beginning to end.
Sadly, Roots and Echoes seems destined to become the template for new Coral releases in years to come -- competent but unexciting, just unusual enough to avoid mainstream success but too mainstream for genuine indie credibility. Still, look at the bright side: at least it's not Born in the UK.
3
