Album Review 2: Learning to Bend

The Album: Learning to Bend

The Artist: Ben Sollee

The A.Q. Rating: 7 out of 10

"An oak and a reed were arguing about their strength. When a strong wind came up, the reed avoided being uprooted by bending and leaning with the gusts of wind. But the oak stood firm and was torn up by the roots."  

- from Aesop's Fables

It would be pretty hard for the listener to miss the thematic elements of Ben Sollee's first solo record, 2008's Learning to Bend. 

From the title of the album and the title track's blatant chorus ("Are you strong enough to bend?") to the prominent genre-spanning instrument (Sollee's cello), Learning to Bend is all about the perseverance of the human spirit, the strength of flexibility, and the hope for a better tomorrow. 

It is the method of embodiment of this human spirit that separates Sollee's efforts from the mass of folk singer-songwriters out there. Sollee's sparse yet beautifully resonant arrangements blur and "bend" the lines between the bluegrass, jazz, and rock genres without leaving a distinct aftertaste. His cello (an instrument that in and of itself is comfortable in jazz, classical, or bluegrass settings) is the common factor throughout the album, although there are a few tracks where he puts down his bow in favor of some old fashioned acoustic guitar. The cello plays an integral role in the masterful instrumentation Sollee demonstrates throughout the album, stringing together lovely harmony lines or acting as a rhythmic catalyst in Sollee's upbeat cover of Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gunna Come". The well discerned use of the cello lines are so powerful that their few absences are even more breath taking, specifically when they are replaced by a harp on the title track, "Bend", before returning in an organic swell to the chorus.

It is not only the cello lines that demonstrate Sollee's wonderful gift for instrumentation. The quirky "Bury Me in My Car" features fiddle and the use of jaw harps, and Sollee is accompanied by the virtuosic banjo picking of former Sparrow Quartet band mate Bela Fleck on "It's Not Impossible". The back up vocals of "Bend", supplied by another former band mate, Abigail Washburn, compliment the subject of the song, the harp, and Sollee's own voice strikingly. The use of vibraphones, saxophone, set, and various hand drums add an irresistible spice of jazz and pop into various tracks on the album, especially the soul-infused porch-rocker "How to See the Sun Rise".

A quick note on Sollee's voice; simply put, it's a solid and honest folk voice. Soulful and endearing, Sollee's vocals freshen up the tired image of the road-weary folk singer. His voice isn't as rough and "of the people" as Bob Dylan or Springsteen, but is still a relatable voice from the crowd, if not a more polished one.

Unfortunately, as expertly as Sollee's crafting of the actual music of this album, his lyrical discretion is nowhere near as well versed. For every elegant line, such as the opening verse of the entire album, "When the storm comes / will you reject the rain? / If it falls not soft / if it falls not tame?", there are three or four clumsy clunkers. For instance, in that exact same track, "A Few Honest Words", Sollee sings the over-explained cliche "Our love of freedom / puts a veil over our eyes / and rights that are given / can be taken away". Occasionally, Sollee's lyrics can hide behind the guise of  quirkiness, like in "Bury Me in My Car" and "Prettiest Tree on the Mountain", however, the awkwardness of some lines simple cannot be ignored. Ironically, the majority of the lyrical issues on the album seem to stem from Sollee's inability to bend his political and personal agenda to meet his own music. This symptom is most noticeable on the cover of "A Change is Gunna Come", where Sollee regrettably adds the rather direct and prose-free verse to Sam Cooke's more universal words, "I tried to find it / some better place / where having the biggest gun / ain't some kind of race".

It is not to say that Sollee's lyrical mishaps overpower the album though. In fact, there are several moments where the lyrics actually relate to the music seamlessly, rather than being rescued by the music. This is especially true on the more subtle and soft tracks on the album, specifically the tender and doubtful "I Can't", in which Sollee's allusions and metaphors are refreshing and charmingly sad. "This ain't the sword pulled from the lake / Yours ain't the heart I want to break" whispers Sollee against the descending nostalgia of an electric guitar. The same holds true for the other ballads on the album ("Panning for Gold" and "Bend"), although the sheer length of the album ending lullaby "Copper and Malachite" leaves them once more vulnerable to criticism.

Overall, Learning to Bend should excite listener's to a growing talent in Sollee, and offers a beautifully orchestrated cross-pollination of genres that truly is strong enough to bend.

Strengths:

- Superb orchestration

- Creative and innovative use of cello to cross genres

- Vocals are stylistically appropriate and technically sound

- Wonderful use of harmony and back up vocals

- Sparse arrangements are extremely well managed and not anemic

- Very few noticeable examples of production interferences

- Thematic elements are relatable to modern culture and easily recognized

Weaknesses:

- Prose can become clumsy and awkward

- Lyrics can at times become too direct and over simplified

- Concluding track is slightly too long

- Track sequencing towards the front of the album could be re-thought

- Additional verse in "A Change is Gunna Come"

Recommended Tracks:

Track 2, "How to See the Sun Rise"

Track 4, "Bend"

Track 5, "It's Not Impossible"

Track 6, "I Can't"

Track 9, "A Change is Gunna Come"

Track 11, "Copper and Malachite"

For Fans of: Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet, Amos Lee, Crooked Still, Ben Harper, Damien Rice, "Dear Companion", Bela Fleck, Sufjan Stevens

 

Album Review 1: Broken Bells

 The Album: Broken Bells

The Artist: Broken Bells

The A.Q. Rating: 8 out of 10

When I first caught wind that former Shins frontman James Mercer was in the studio working on a collaboration project, I admit I was more then a little worried.

In today's pop music world, collaborations typically bring to mind the countless hip hop and r&b tracks that have enough "feat. artist y, feat. artist x, feat artist z and the artist c band" to force my Ipod screen to scroll through artist information longer than the actual song takes to play. These guest artists typically do very little to constitute a collaboration - perhaps a vocalize here, an exclamation there, or maybe even taking two solo verses - but nothing that shows a collaborative effort to make something new out of two aspects.

Even alleged collaborations in other genres are guilty of this - take perhaps one of them most infamous cross-genre collaborations of all time, Run-DMC and Aerosmith's "Walk This Way". Granted, the song cross-pollinated audiences that wanted nothing to do with each other, and provided not only a great tune but also some needed critical change, but was it really that groundbreaking for the artists involved? No offence to Run-DMC, but rapping the lyrics to an already known rock hit with the addition of some scratching doesn't exactly constitute their best work. Nor does having a black hip hop group rap your lyrics to your own accompaniment speak well for the strengths or understanding of the collaborative genre on Aerosmith's part.

I feared that Mercer was simply selling himself short, dooming to become a "featured" artist.

Then I heard about the collaborating artist: Brian Burton. A.k.a., DJ Danger Mouse, of Grey Album fame.

I purchased a copy of Broken Bells the next morning.

On the surface, Broken Bells is much like watching World Cup football for the first time. Sure, you can see why people like it - and it's entertaining, but it isn't until you see the slow-mo replays of Ronaldo's quick, graceful, and purposeful foot changes and dribbling or the detailed physicality for possession that one can truly understand the fanaticism that surrounds the sport. At first listen, Broken Bells sounds wonderful - a short, 30 minute album of groovable pop with some cool effects. Good enough to play once in awhile, just as a break from the usual suspects on your playlists, but nothing groundbreaking.

But then you'll listen to it a second time. Then you'll realizing your grooving to a melancholy song about a stripper. Then you'll listen a little closer a third time. Perhaps a fourth. And then the identity of the album begins to leak out.

The biggest strength of the album is that it utilizes the strengths of both parties, Mercer and Burton, to an extent that not only highlights their strengths but combines them in a way that covers their defects. There are no superfluous effects used by Burton, with every added harmony, beat, and synth executing a specific purpose. The lyrics, although introspective (and certainly with a touch of advice to Mercer's former band mates), play upon enough universal themes (life choices, postmodern guilt, letting go, etc.) to empower the empathy of the listener.

Obviously, the album has some experimental qualities to it; do not expect to hear The Shins, nor expect to hear the Gorillaz. Burton and Mercer's experimentation with Broken Bells is out-of-box, but not out-of -mind. Perhaps the most blatant and radical experiment is the sudden discovery of Mercer's quite wonderful falsetto (think Jamiroquai, or more fittingly, Damon Albarn of the Gorillaz) in the fourth track of the album, "The Ghost Inside", and the hellish composition of the waltz in the album's fifth and weaker track, "Sailing to Nowhere".

Besides the positive consequences of the successful collaboration between the two indie stars, the album has a few glaring strengths from Burton's production. The album uses no samples, and combined with the lyrical themes presented as well as the unfortunate fact that there are several times when the lyrics are unintelligable, implies the old romantic ideal of "music for music's sake", or music itself over the ideals it can represent. Even upon the intial listening, Burton's sequencing of the tracks is also perfect, and truly cements the confidence of the album.

As far as familiarity, there are elements, but only elements, of both artist's former projects, most notably that of Burton's work with Gnarls Barkley on the grammy winning St. Elsewhere, and Mercer's work with the Shins on tracks like "Vaporize". There are hints to other artists, but nothing that would rationalize a specific allusion. Some of these elements include the Beach Boy's Pet Sounds can clearly be heard (especially with the opening track and single, "The High Road"), and there are elements of everything from Prince ("The Ghost Inside"), Beatles ("Vaporize"), and B-52s ("Mongrel's Heart").

Suffice it to say, the album shows what a true collaboration is, and characterizes both artists in a fashion that is both just and productive, while providing a new element for the listener. While I do not think this album is the best effort to define each artist, it certaintly was a daring, fun, and successful side project. So give it more than a listen, and in the words of Broken Bells themselves, "Don't run, don't rush/ just float" ("October").

Strengths:

- Great sequencing

- Nearly all tracks are independently strong

- Lyrics are well written and balanced

- No superfluous production

-Production is purposeful and impactful

- Experimentation is daring without becoming insulting or evasive

-Shows a true balance of the artists' strengths to produce something unique

Weaknesses:

- Replacement of original pre-release track with ballad "Citizen" questionable

- Album is short - roughly 30 minutes

- Lyrics are sometimes too difficult to hear in a way that interrupts the affect of the song

Recommended Tracks:

Track 1, "The High Road"

Track 3, "The Ghost Inside"

Track 6, "Trap Doors"

Track 9, "October"

For Fans of: The Gorillaz, Gnarls Barkley, Beck, The Shins, Danger Mouse, Jamiroquai, The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds