By Thomas Nyte (Contributor) – Email
Print Edition: March 26, 2014
States is no album.
It’s a case study in complexity, curiosity, the power of urgency, and the pervasiveness of atmosphere.
And if States tells us one thing about folk-rock quintet The Paper Kites, it’s that their newest music can’t really be called folk, but it can’t really be called rock, either. The folksy opus — or “folkus,” if you will — manages to comfortably straddle all sorts of lines. The line between ambient and rhythmic. The line between structured and capricious. The line between relaxing and intense.
States is a marvel of self-contained diversity. The first full-length album from the Australian band, it’s a noticeable (but not unexpected) departure from their previous EPs Woodland and Young North, which might best be described as playlists for exploring timberland hillsides and an overcast Midwestern landscape, respectively.
States, though, is not a playlist for a journey so much as it is a journey in itself. I picked up my copy after being fortunate enough to see The Paper Kites at their inaugural Canadian performance at The Biltmore Cabaret last fall. I found myself in the unusual (and entirely fantastic) predicament of hearing the album in concert before the actual recordings. The show was flawless, featuring an impeccable mix of new and old material as well as a remarkable rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams.” So, pumped up by the show, I jammed States into my car’s CD player before I even turned on the ignition.
The 13-track album kicks off with “Malleable Beings” — a song title befitting a band that so willingly reinvents itself. It acts as a summary of what is to come: lead vocalists Sam Bentley and Christina Lacy share the choral spotlight, while lead guitarist Dave Powys hammers out resonant licks with such command they’ll get stuck in your head for hours — a trademark of the album. Up next is the eerie and lovely “St. Clarity,” overflowing with volume swells and spooky-sweet modulation, making it the most ethereal, phantasmal song you’ll ever hear that also features a banjo. The next three tracks showcase a pitch-perfect repertoire of musical multiplicity that any listener should, by this point, be expecting from the rest of the album (check out the music video for “Young” — it’s remarkable).
Unfortunately, though, the album’s first act sets almost impossibly high standards for the rest of the album, which is, perhaps, why the journey falters in its middle section. The sixth song, “A Lesson from Mr. Gray,” overreaches the band’s ambition and delves a little too deeply into the risky waters of major-key rock and roll. Though much of the guitar and bass work is intricate and charming, the song is ill-suited to Bentley’s Art Garfunkel-esque vocal style and ultimately interrupts an otherwise seamless album arrangement.
Following “A Lesson from Mr. Gray,” States takes it down a few notches. “Tin Lover,” “Never Heard a Sound,” and “Tenenbaum” are all mellowed-out aural callbacks to Woodland, the band’s first, folksiest release. Tranquility suits The Paper Kites like flannel on a lumberjack, and the songs are spaced out well enough to keep listeners from becoming bored.
“Cold Kind Hand” and “In Reverie” both put Lacy at the vocal helm once more, and her dovelike melodies flatter the instrumentals (and vice versa). “Cold Kind Hand” is, tonally speaking, the darkest song on the album, and easily one of the most memorable, thanks in no small part to its preposterously hummable guitar phrasing, reverbed and shady. “In Reverie” sounds a bit like “A Lesson From Mr. Grey” done correctly, and makes creative use of some stunning melodic intervals while somehow managing to be equal parts uplifting, saddening, and painful — the climax of the auditory adventure that is States.
The album concludes in a satisfactory way. The final two tracks, while individually wonderful, are musically similar enough that the attention of the listener begins to wane ever so slightly by track 13 (“I Done You So Wrong”). They both have similar dynamics, tempos, and plodding bass lines, making the album conclusion seem uncertain and marginally overdrawn.
Despite its occasional shortcomings, though, States is a marvel in structural elegance and musical diversity, and serves as a testament not only to The Paper Kites’ talent, but also their willingness to evolve, grow, and constantly challenge themselves. Expect big, unexpected things from this Australian outfit, and pray they never lose their curiosity — range like theirs is an ever-dwindling rarity.
