To spare the reader of smelling the bias from a mile away, I provide thee with a mention that I have an unapologetic soft spot for the classic emo blueprint. Triggered by the sound of twinkling guitar phrases and anthemic, passionate shouts, my smile automatically widens with joy. Not only limited to that, but Algernon Cadwallader's debut, Some Kind of Cadwallader has received high ranking as one of my favorites from the past decade. Its 40 minutes of fluttering, harmonic sweeps and youthful disposition equated to a heap of concentrated ear candy, and my experiences with the debut led to the discovery of my first musical weakness. Must I analyze past the stunning decorations in order to scour for some hidden depth? With adornments as lush and vivid as Algernon's, I would only look so far.
Claiming that the Philadelphia trio show evidence of progression on Parrot Flies may be a bit of a stretch, though a certain air here alters their semblance. Most noticeably its general key and mood are brighter, and this is unearthed seasonably punctual. Like its predecessor and many of Algernon's contemporaries, Parrot Flies revels in 90s nostalgia as bookended by "Springing Leaks" and "Cruisin'" whose rich guitar outcries seem to be cloned using J. Mascis's locks. To deviate from potential influences and inspirations Algernon have also elevated their hooks, resulting in some of their most indelible tunes yet, including "Preservatives" and "Uniform".
The band has made an effort to enhance the sonics of their music in the studio, as told in great detail on their blog. Despite that there's one guitarist in the group, multi-tracking advantages have led to interlacing melodies too labyrinthine to enumerate. The hoots and hollers surrounding each song also give the aura of attending a live performance. Songwriting aside, Parrot Flies's saturated production transcends that of its predecessor.
While the band's debut sparked arguments claiming their work entirely derivative of Cap'n Jazz, the experiments that take place on Parrot Flies are proof of Algernon Cadwallader inching near something of their own. One of the band's many trademarks is their frontman and bassist, who though reminiscent of Tim Kinsella's adolescent yelp projects sincerity through a cathartic brew of harmony and discord-- a crossover so seamless that the two never juxtapose. Determining which album outweighs the other will take another three years, but the only common thread between the two is strength.
[Algernon Cadwallader Myspace]
[Buy Parrot Flies from Algernon Cadwallader]
they are a trio. not a quartet.
ReplyDeleteAh, thanks for informing me! I recall seeing old footage of them as a four-piece and figured that they still were.
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