My heart is always on the line / I've traveled all kinds of places The song is always the same / Got lonesome fuel for fire Got 45's to play at night / Got books to spend with every weekend The story's always the same / Got lonesome fuel for fire
~ "Fuel for Fire"
Describing a relationship with music, or books or film can really cheapen the product and even your connection to it. It's a touchy subject, something that I can never really attribute words to so easily. But with the ease of turning a smooth knob on an old radio, M. Ward pipes into the speakers with such gentleness that it's easy to know when something fits. It just does.
From the start, Transistor Radio, immerses the listener into another, older sound. Not unlike early Elliott Smith, which sounds like Nick Drake and quieter Damien Jurado, like the scratchiness of Iron & Wine's "Creek Drank the Cradle", the guitar is old and full of static, a little washed out and distant, like an ancient frequency found on the airwaves in the deep south, but a bass-y low end corners everything else out evenly. A little hum of feedback languishes in the background.
As the album progresses, more comes into play, a fuzzy, super-distorted guitar and some brush strokes on a drum kit bring you a little into the present without losing that lovely old sound of O' Brother Where Art Thou, but only briefly, for about two minutes, until M. Ward gets a little more serious and a lot clearer to the listener. "Hi-Fi" is a little Andrew Kinney (of American Analog Set), and does get a little cleaner than the rest of the tracks, but lots of dead air and static keep everything consistent. There's faint synth in the background, but an undeniably catchy line running through the song eventually settles the album off into the right direction well.
The album shines most brightly on tracks like "Fuel for Fire"; the economy of the song is astounding, working patterns in and out of the guitar lines, the refrain resounding lazily. What's most fitting about the song is it's reflection on itself-- I can only imagine hearing "Fuel for Fire" on a late Saturday night radio show, where the stillness is barely touched by M. Ward's voice drifting through.
Running the gamut of styles, something sinister is working on "Four Hours in Washington", but the pace of the album is so quick, it's hard at first to catch up to what's going on, but there's some glue working here to keep it all together.
If it weren't for songs like "Ferry Boat", with it's rock 'n' roll fervor and slightly sexual overtones; I'd almost characterize much of the album as Gospel-like, the bluegrass and Gospel claps of "Deep Dark Well" and the psalm-like qualities of "Oh Take Me Back" just feel spiritual, in the best way imaginable. Who am I kidding, if these aren't covers of old folk spirituals, they could very well pass for them.
With that kind investment into the songs, it's hard to not appreciate the nonchalant and inviting way it's put to tape. Unpretentious and silent in movement, "Transistor Radio" is an awfully beautiful glimpse of what it's like to live in a different, more hospitable time and place; a fitting and perfect anachronism if I've ever heard one. |