Robin Pecknold (center) is some kind of Brian Wilson-inspired Appalachian folk music idiot savant. There may not be an album this decade with more melodic hooks than Fleet Foxes eponymous debut, due in large part to Pecknold's songwriting and lead vocals. Bursting with baroque pop harmonies seemingly hatched in some forest glen, Fleet Foxes' timeless textures weave spellbinding melodies with each listen.
On "White Winter Hymnal," strains of shape-note singing, Pet Sounds harmonies, gospel, and folk collide in an entirely unique camp-fire musical kaleidoscope. On the following track "Ragged Wood," the band's three-part suite displays sunny, shuffling country-rock, sixties-folk, and backwoods spirituals all within a span of five minutes.
Why listen? These two songs are a rousing entrance into a vivid sonic realm that touches on almost every aspect of distinctly American music. Fleet Foxes then combines such influences into something wholly original. There is absolutely no ceiling for what this band can do.
Something else? "He Doesn't Know Why," "Mykonos," "Blue Ridge Mountains," "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song," "Oliver James."
No comments:
Post a Comment