Left of the Dial |
The Magic Numbers and Feistby Donny Kutzbach |
|
|
It’s been a good year for fans of Connor Oberst, the singer/songwriter boy-man behind Omaha, NE’s feted indie outfit Bright Eyes. The band’s two 2005 albums, the country-kissed I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning and the noisenik electrorock set Digital Ash/ Digital Urn, have been blockbuster releases in a tepid marketplace and elevated Oberst to top-tier status. His music is the stuff that makes that certain circle of sensitive teens and 20-somethings’ hearts heat up. From behind a trembling, blue tenor Oberst delivers songs earnest, fragile and nakedly confessional. He taps into that similar sad lost lad territory that made Morrissey an icon before him. People eat that stuff up! But some people hate that stuff, too.
For those who dislike him, taking shots at Oberst is like the proverbial pastime of shooting barreled fish. For every emaciated, thrift-store-t-shirt-wearing Connorite, there’s his shaggy rock snob Bizzaro, who probably sports a Motorhead tattoo, and would like to break every sensitive bone in Mr. Bright Eyes’ body. “Bright Eyes is wuss rock,” he’d argue. What the one guy sees as heart-wrenching soul baring is seen by the other as whiney histrionics and more posture than substance. For every ounce of hype there’s always the bitter backlash!
Whatever side of the love/hate coin you may fall on, you ought to agree on one thing: Connor’s got great taste in musicians. Last year, he chose to tour and collaborate with M. Ward and My Morning Jacket’s Jim James for a series of shows. For Bright Eyes’ current tour, which pulls into UB’s Center For the Arts for a sold out show this Monday (Nov. 21), he’s picked a primo support combination between London-based group The Magic Numbers and Calgary, Alberta native Feist.
Truth be told, for all the ink spilled over Bright Eyes’ interesting pair of records, neither compares to The Magic Numbers’ self-titled release or Feist’s Let it Die which, as 2005 comes to its magnificent close, easily stand among the year’s best.
The Magic Numbers are a brother/sister, brother/sister quartet whose debut is an awe-inspiring collection of perfect pop songs delivered by a band with a tightness and musical togetherness that can only by explained by the fact that its members had been singing and playing together since they were kids. Singer/guitarist/pianist Romeo Stodart is the defacto leader. He has got the Brian Wilson terrain well-covered (which goes well beyond his long brown hair and beard reminiscent of Wilson’s “lost” years) as one can easily hear when he sings the intricate melody of “Don’t Give Up this Fight.” The Beach Boys and the breezy, harmony-laden “West Coast sound” are the easy points of reference for what The Magic Numbers do best. They pack this record with sunshiny harmonies and simple, unself-consciously brilliant songwriting. “Wheel’s On Fire” is a sparsely beautiful ballad. “Love Me Like You Do” grooves with full power-pop lilt set ablaze with bopping basslines, tooth-achingly perfect harmonies and obligatory handclaps. It would be nice to pick one or two really great songs off this record to highlight, but it’s actually rather tough: they’re all strong and catchier than the flu. There’s no space wasted, absolutely no filler. Little or no gimmick here, either. The Magic Numbers seems to hover in a unique place in current music that puts the group among a short list of peers: perhaps only Badly Drawn Boy, the Flaming Lips and Beck. There are enough quirks to set the Magic Numbers apart with an overall feeling of spot-on pop bliss. This is an important band making the kind of music that will likely stand the test of time.
Lesley Feist, who professionally goes simply by her surname, is a little less of a surprise for 2005. As a part of Canadian indie uber-collective Broken Social Scene, as well as stints with Peaches, By Divine Right and one moderately-acclaimed solo album, we all knew that Feist had some serious musical connections. Still, Let It Die is a bit of jaw-dropper for a number of reasons. The first being that it’s an immaculately recorded album that deftly manages to mix originals, standards and songs by the Bee Gees and Ron Sexsmith for an overall cohesive, thoughtful statement. The other obvious comment is that this record is virtually unclassifiable. Go ahead and try to give this a genre. No dice, really.
The record finds Feist playing with a kaleidoscopic style meshing cabaret, folk, jazz, pop vocal, r&b and beyond. If Adult Contemporary wasn’t such a dirty phrase, I might offer it up largely because Let it Die has a certain lived-in maturity to it (as heard on the impeccable ”One Evening” with its late-'70s FM vibe). Feist’s jazz-inspired vocals, with brushstrokes of Nina Simone and Astrud Gilberto, are what make this a special affair. Her voice has a certain vulnerability that balances well with a studied sense of streetwise cool. The perfect backdrop for those vocals is the elegant arrangements by sometimes Peaches acolyte and regular Feist collaborator Chilly Gonzalez which are understated and eschew pretense, favoring mellow over bombast. Feist manages to tread otherwise uncharted waters with a record that could as easily be a favorite for fans of The Dears as it could for lovers of Norah Jones.
|
Issue Navigation> Issue Index > v4n46: Holiday Gift Guide (11/17/05) > The Magic Numbers and Feist This Week's Issue • Artvoice Daily • Events Calendar • Classifieds |
Subscribe 