Beachwood Sparks, Once We Were Trees (Sub Pop) 9
On their debut album last year, Beachwood Sparks recreated an uncanny copy of Gram Parsons' "Cosmic American music" sound, as heard in The Byrds' Sweetheart Of The Radio and The Flying Burrito Brothers' Gilded Palace Of Sin. Aside from Parsons fetishists, this sort of nostalgia seemed particularly useless. But on their second album, Beachwood Sparks have both expanded their scope, and upped the ante on the songwriting. Now they have absorbed not only the rootsy folk of The Band, but also the more psychedelic leanings of Buffalo Springfield and sounds that can only compared to contemporaries like Gorky's Zygotic Mynci and Kingsbury Manx. "Old Manatee" in particular recalls Kingsbury Manx, with its woozy sliding guitar scales. My main complaint is the tinny, trebly mix that is obviously meant to approximate the production of the 60s and early 70s. This might sound good on AM radio, but no one is going to be listening to this on AM radio! There's no shame, even in nostalgiasts, in having a full sound. The lyrics are supposedly full of cheerful positivity, though they're inconsequential, as the recording (by J. Mascis) keeps the vocals low in the mix, so it's impossible to make them out. Nevertheless, there are many rewards for those in love with soft harmonies and delicately plucked banjos and jangling Rickenbackers. They even offer surprises, like turning Sade's "By Your Side" into a sloe-eyed "Whiter Shade Of Pale" style space cowboy anthem. The album closes with "Once We Were Trees," which starts as a country-rocker, but eventually takes off for orbit in a noisy feedback-drenched climax that could be mistaken for The Helio Sequence. Worth catching a ride, as long as you know you'll be taken back to familiar territory.
