Not much is to be said about the background of the Widest Smiling Faces other than their Brooklyn residence and makeup consisting of members Christopher Wojdak and principal songwriter Aviv Cohn. The project's self-titled debut didn't reveal much either: being a compilation of Cohn's solo recordings, any narrative to be derived from the album would have been haphazard. On its followup, Me and My Ribcage, not much else is told on the storytelling front, but Cohn elucidates what little purpose lucidity holds.
Wojdak's instrumental and production accompaniment are audible, and one would need look no further than the title track. Warm and deep layers of guitars seep into one another, congealing into a pool of reflective melody. For a work composed solely of guitar and voice, its tenor is quite gorgeous. The instrumentals are often so gorgeously enthralling that they avert the listener from Cohn's voice, which on the following "Lazy Boy" repetitively sighs about a lack of redemption from love, blood, and God. The ambiguity almost renders Cohn dismissible, whereas on other numbers his lyrics reel one in, such as the sensory niceties of "Two Lips" and "I Used To Have Sad Eyes".
Me and My Ribcage's personal lyricism and austere orchestration attain a mouth-to-ear intimacy that a number of contemporaries only aspire to have. The Widest Smiling Faces don't quite surpass the school of indie folk to which they're attached, nor do they venture to. In the same respect, the album's reclusive nature isn't the product of an outgoing concept and rather looks toward comfort and introspection. Me and My Ribcage is a great advancement for Cohn, adding color to the palette and widening the canvas.
[The Widest Smiling Faces Website]
[Stream/Download Me and My Ribcage from the Widest Smiling Faces]