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This new album finds Aloha refining their sound with increased restraint and precision. The signature elements from their last release, Here Comes Everyone, are still present, but more understated. Proggy organ and marimba are joined by furtive guitar and skittering drums on opener "Brace Your Face," and more retro keyboard sounds can be heard on "Your Eyes" and "Ice Storming," which is an unabashed electric-piano pop ballad, with sublty-used Casio sounds, that almost gets into Aqualung territory. "Between the Walls" has a baroque keyboard part that sounds like something from Mark Mothersbaugh's score for Rushmore, and features a brief burst of heavily-effected Phil Collins-style drums. "Come Home" is hypnotic, with a repeating guitar figure, droning Mellotron, and echo-drenched midsection. It's followed by "Weekend," which has verses based in Afropop-style guitar reminiscent of early The Sea and Cake, shuffling snare rolls, and marimba, like some kind of John McEntire daydream, and features a magnificent refrain. "Summer Lawn" is a keyboard duet between reverby piano and more proggy organ, with rapid drum fills and a quasi-mystical feel once again drawing the early-Yes comparison. The disc closes with the propulsive love song "Mountain," which is uplifting both in its lyrical symbolism and its urgently pulsing rhythm.
The lyrics throughout the album are once again outstanding, full of evocative imagery and turns of phrase such as "tonight the window fan makes off with your plans," "liv[ing] in a pine cone," "the fist of Spring," "we'll rearrange the days with staples and tape"...I could go on. As a listener I'm not often drawn to lyrics the way I am to these. Maybe this is why the instrumental aspect of the music has been focused up and reined in: to shift the emphasis to the words and the unaffected vocals of Tony Cavallario. Even though this album is more understated than its predecessor, it's no less potent. In distilling their sound, Aloha have mastered a distinct pop language all their own, casting themselves as spiritual cousins of Pinback, The Sea and Cake, and, once again, labelmates Mates of State. In doing so, they've created a thoughtful, beautiful album for all seasons. (mike.04.06)
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Listening to this disc reminds me that the music I listened to, say, 10 years ago seemed to be a bit more challenging than what I typically listen to now. Was indie rock generally more challenging back then, or was it my taste that was different? Probably more likely the latter, which is a shame because I might be missing out on other great albums like this these days. Aloha is an Ohio four-piece that embrace an expansive, symphonic variety of songwriting and arrangements that defies easy categorization. On this disc, their third full-length, you might find proggy musical complexities straight out of Yes or early Genesis (minus the wizard hats), hypnotic intertwining Philip Glass-style marimba and vibes, or simple, floating minor-key waltzes and other more straightforward pop styles. Retro keyboard sounds (Rhodes, Mellotron) intermingle with driving, complex rhythms and contrary-sounding guitar, giving this a bit of an early-70s meets mid-90s kind of sound. And as impressive and accomplished as the instrumentation is, it's the melodic, melancholy-tinged vocals that really hook the anchor in here, and the ingriguing, oblique narratives of the lyrics really draw me in and are at times rather moving, without being obvious. There's an interesting tough/tender interplay going on here that reminds me of bands like Beekeeper or even labelmates Mates of State. This is really an outstanding album that accomplishes the rare feat of achieving lofty musical ambitions while attaining an equal level of unforced emotional resonance. (mike.01.05)
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