We are in the presence of genius. As with all staggering geniuses, they have beards. Just like Randy Nichols' security report, it is my duty to make you all aware of these beards. These beards go by the name Foxes.
The folk alternative genre is, in my absolutely useless opinion, in a dry spell. The last five months have yielded relatively mediocre music. Even some of the best musicians of the genre have failed to put out works that live up to their potential. Brett Dennen's new release "Hope for the Hopeless" is overproduced, and a little too sweet. Jason Mraz's "We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things" ?We want our things back. Okkervil River's "The Stand Ins" is a disappointing follow up to the brilliant "Stage Names." Most upsetting, the new Ray Lamontagne album "Gossip in the Grain" doesn't sound like his usual brilliance. While its single "You Are the Best Thing" is a solid piece of soul-folk (his greatest strength), the rest of the album suffers from rambling, hook-less melodies, and the absence of his patented stellar vocal performances. Lamontagne's past vocal performances have been indefinably pleasant. To say that I would kill for his voice is a bit strong, but I might be inclined to ruin someone's livelihood for it. This album shows little signs of the Ray of old. His beard however, continues to believe it is still producing good albums.
In light of this album drought I kept returning to Fleet Foxes self-titled, debut album. The album has it all. Imagine if you will, the Beach Boys (of Pet Sounds), The Shins, BBC's Planet Earth, finding and then catching Miew, making a Colby kid cry, and Super Snack. Now blend all of those up, pour it into a Nalgene and take it with you to Ivies. But don't drink it. Instead, pour it into your ear?trust me.
Fleet Foxes are a phenomenon to the folk genre because they are, on one hand, as purist folk as you can get. Their instrumentation is accurate and true to the style. Using guitars, mandolins, tambourines, and upright basses, their harmonies are simple, full, four-part arrangements that are reminiscent of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. Their lyrics are in the traditional vein of folk prose: i.e. a red squirrel here, a meadowlark there, a big blue mountain over yonder. While they are in these respects a run-of-the-mill folk group, they are, on the other hand, a band with an alt-rock sound. If they aren't vamping on that pastoral folk sound, they are playing hard-hitting guitars with driving bass and drums leading the way.
Fleet Foxes are not doing anything very different from their rock or folk counterparts. However, they are more successful than most at combining those two genres into their own sound. Most groups that try to bridge this gap approach the two genres as separate entities, and their songs sound split down the middle. Fleet Foxes have succeeded because they approach their rock sound with the same musicality of their folk sound and vice verse. The result is a totally original and cohesive sound that is seldom heard anymore.
The maturity and mastery of this album is outstanding. It's hard to believe it's a debut or even an album of this time period. It is anachronistic both in its style and its conceptualization of "the album." Thanks, in many parts, to the advent of the iPod and iTunes Music Store, the "album" has fallen to the wayside. We are all much more likely to buy one song we like for 99 cents than 10 songs we don't know for $9.99. Fleet Foxes are challenging us as listeners to consider the whole album. The songs of the album are connected by a series of complex instrumental or a cappella interludes that are woven in seamlessly so every minute of the recording is as important as the next. That being said, there are specific high points of the recording. "White Winter Hymnal," "He Doesn't Know Why," and "Ragged Wood" are the album's strongest group performances, while "Meadowlarks" and "Oliver James" are outstanding folk songs that highlight Robin Pecknold's voice. If you haven't heard Fleet Foxes "Fleet Foxes" by now, buy now, bye now.