Nope, it’s not Fleetwood Mac, it’s not The Mamas and the Papas, it’s certainly not Crosby Stills Nash and Young. It’s those foxiest of fleeting foxes! The debut album is easily one of the most individual and exciting albums of the last decade, combining a healthy dose of American folk-rock with rich choral-style harmonies and beards as far as the eye can see for your pleasure and delight. The album listens almost as an impressionist work with movements, rather than an album with tracks, with each song leading stylistically, lyrically and even harmonically to the next.
Lyrically they provide us with a hugely thoughtful album, which focuses on pastoral beauty, worthy of any Romantic poet and a much needed contrast to the dry, laconic and frankly soul-destroying lyrics from the Kate Nash’s of this world. This is only intensified by the production with heavy use of reverb reflecting the almost ethereal quality of the lyrics.
A healthy dose of American folk-rock with rich choral-style harmonies and beards
The music overall is handled very effectively providing only that which is essential to enhance the lyrics (think Benjy Britten’s Peter Grimes, replacing the murdering sailor with a swallow wrapped in a pretty red scarf.) The only let down would have to be Quiet House. Musically, this is dreary and seems to act as lengthy, unnecessary filler (maybe this is the interval?)
The most poignant and the stand-out track from this album would have to be White Winter Hymnal, which combines rich Mahlerian choral harmonies with a very simple folk accompaniment and beautifully simple lyric line. Each change in the underlying harmony is perfectly placed and certainly tugs at the olde heart strings. Brew up some potato-peel broth in the aga, use any priceless art you have lying around as kindling, hang a drawing of a snowy 19th century English village in the window and break out the Keats. Love it. As I do. Cream.