I can't decide if America's voyeuristic impulses are getting worse, or if, as a population, we're just starting to act on something that was always there. I mean, I know I'm not the first one to point this out, but there's a lot of reality programming on the ol’ tube right now. And there's also Found Magazine. For those who aren't hip, Found is, in their own words, a periodic collection of love letters, birthday cards, kids' homework, to-do lists, ticket stubs, poetry on napkins, telephone bills, doodles- anything that gives a glimpse into someone else's life. Anything goes... It's usually comical, but at the same time kind of heartbreaking, because these little snippets always leave me with so many more questions than answers. It really must be experienced to be understood.
Anyway, I’m not reviewing a magazine here, I’m reviewing an album, and I bring this up because the members of Holopaw appear to be big fans of Found. Not only does the magazine get a shout-out in the liner notes, but the title track is even comprised of "found" lyrics. It speaks volumes that the song is a) less than two minutes long and b) maybe the most compelling piece on the album. Subconsciously or not, the members of Holopaw have attempted to recreate the Found aesthetic on Quit +/or Fight, with each track somehow feeling both tossed off and a part of something greater, like scraps of a life. Then again, what works as an intriguing niche magazine doesn’t always work as an indie pop album.
Lyrically, yes, there is some of the poignancy of a long-lost photograph here. Every phrase seems vaguely familiar, and, as the album progresses, each song seems to be one degree further separated from everything else. The landscape is dotted with allusions to gray holidays filled with fake snow, pooling water slowly freezing into ice, and fading light. Every word is cold, but somewhat comforting, as if spoken by a veteran of the hard times who may be willing to help you through them, provided he’s not too tired. When lead singer John Orth throws out lines like, “Oh what a forest you will find amongst the trees,” he may as well be speaking of his own record. It is a dismal but strangely beautiful forest.
Musically, though, this album doesn't do anything. In some spots, it really might as well be spoken word. Instrumentals act as simple backdrops for the lyrics, ambling along for as long as needed and then petering out. Nothing builds into anything. There are no changing dynamics, no hooks, really not a whole lot of emotion. There is no urgency, ever. In the same way that the brilliance of the lyrics increases when each track seems distantly related to the one before it, the music gets boring when it doesn't change enough from one to another. There is a difference between having a consistent sound and not being able to tell songs apart.
There are, of course, exceptions. The brilliant "Velveteen (All is bright.)" is probably the best "bummed out on Christmas" song ever, what with references to "dragging the lake with peppermint hooks." It's also one of the only songs to play with dynamics, and as a result, lines like "He's sorry to have left you / But there was so far to go / And the lake was icing over" come off as unspeakably powerful, and become evidence that these guys can write compelling tunes, if they so choose. Here, and almost nowhere else, is that urgency, and it works perfectly.
"3-shy-cubs" is also an early highlight, complete with the closest thing to a chorus found on this record, and the concluding duo of "Ghosties" and "Shiver Me" both utilize harmonies and repeated phrases to push the band somewhere near Shins territory. If Holopaw ever gets on The OC, it will be on the strength of one of those two.
Still, one great song and a few passable ones do not a classic make, and the fact is that Holopaw, in their quest to be as true to life as possible, may have gotten exactly what they wished for - a record with rare highlights but even rarer lowlights, a disc with potential that is ultimately ignorable a lot of the time. The good outweighs the bad, definitely, but the mediocre outweighs everything else. If that doesn't describe my life, I don't know what would. |