The starter album. The one album that a person needs in order to decide whether or not they want to further pursue an artist’s musical output. It may not be the artist’s best album, but it certainly is the least intimidating way to be introduced to a band. Starter albums fall into two categories. The first is where the starter album acts as an overview to an artist’s career, more influenced by an artist’s early material but foreshadowing their more (or less) challenging material. The Beatles’ Revolver and Wilco’s Summerteeth both fall into this category. The second type of starter album is the one that takes an artist whose material is typically challenging and best reserved for a small cult following and polishes it in a way that everyone can enjoy, without any fear of artistic sacrifice. The Velvet Underground’s Loaded (what kind of asshole buys White Light / White Heat before Loaded?) and Can’s Cannibalism are classic examples. This latter category is where the Fiery Furnaces’ EP stakes its claim.
The Fiery Furnaces burst onto the scene in ’03 with the rollicking Gallowsbird’s Park. It was a delightful, but relatively slight album. “Slight” would be an understatement next to the band’s next long (and I mean long) player, Blueberry Boat. That jumbled and overstuffed album is, quite frankly, a motherfucker to get through. It’s simply a beast. I have a friend who picked that album up after reading some good reviews on the Internet. After one listen to the album’s opener, “Quay Cur,” he swore off progressive music altogether and returned to his old Counting Crows and Blind Melon CD’s, never to return again. It’s a deadly album, one that even my forgiving ears are having difficulty adjusting to.
Live, the band is even more intimidating, jumping from one song fragment to the next without stopping in their typically hour-plus sets. The band doesn’t play whole songs live. They just pick a verse hear, a chorus there and throw it into a big confusing rock jambalaya – the kind that features gummy bears and Dill pickles to go with the sausage and shrimp.
EP, a collection of rarities and B-sides (is anyone else tired of that “odds and sods” phrase?), seeks to present the Fiery Furnaces in a digestible form without compromising the band’s desire to stop and start melodies on a dime. Gone are the 10-minute musical clusterfucks. Instead, EP presents the Furnaces as a group that can comfortably play something with mass appeal that doesn’t compromise their propensity for musical and lyrical non-sequitors. It’s an album for everybody. Blueberry Boat naysayers and fanboys join hands. This is something everybody can agree on.
The opening triad of songs most resemble the material on Blueberry Boat, in that one manic but delightful track jumps into the next without so much as a pause or a bridge. The near club bounce of “Single Again” turns on a dime to become the more plaintive “Here Comes the Summer,” which slams into the sweeping (literally) “Evergreen.” On Blueberry Boat, these three tracks would have been combined in one overlong, overly confusing track. Here they are three wonderfully unique songs that allow the listener to feel at ease with the album.
Although Eleanor Friedberger does the vast majority of the singing on EP, it is Brother Matthew’s tracks that really steal the show. “Sing For Me” contains the album’s most traditional melody and may be the most immediately enjoyable song the Fiery Furnaces have ever performed. “Sweet Spot” contains a loose and giddy duet for the siblings. With Eleanor at the helm of the vocals, any track featuring Matthew comes as a welcome change of pace.
Although EP contains some of the Fiery Furnaces most adventurous and enjoyable music, they still make frequent lyrical missteps. “Tropical-Iceland” and “Duffer St. George” would be written off for there annoying lyrics (“Goat’s head in the deli case / Oh sweet angel-angel-bearded face / Paper mache parade on at night.” What the fucky?) if it weren’t for their invigorating choruses. The Furnaces’ lyrics often deal with everyday goings on (like an indie rock Seinfeld), but oftentimes the schtick wears thin and there’s nothing cute or funny about it (like an indie rock The Single Guy). Despite the lyrical inconsistencies, the Fiery Furnaces stay afloat through the sheer adventurousness of their music.
With a title like EP, one would assume that the album is a mere teaser, not worth the energy to listen to. That couldn’t be further from the truth. At just over 40 minutes and with 10 tracks, EP feels more like an album than half of last year’s best LPs. EP should be viewed as a full length and treated like a full length. In fact, it should probably be viewed as the Fiery Furnaces finest hour. Even if it is just a starter album. |