Ah, the Annuals. Such trippy, sunshiney, garbly music.
And fortunately they are the kind of bright, enthusiastic indie band that only gets better as they polish their sound -- exhibit A being "Such Fun," which does its best to live up to its title. It takes some weird trips this time -- seemingly simple songs that erupt into more complex sounds and wildly trickly indiepop, mingled with a sort of hallucinogenic Americana folk. There are moments that aren't quite "such fun," but most of them are.
It starts with a strong, powerful guitar melody that slowly begins to trickly sunshiny violins and fiery riffs. And in keeping with "Confessor's" title, there's a faint hint of organ as well. "Pack up and leave everyday/I plant the seed to rip the roots away/And I believe every word you say calls the thunder/and spooks off the pain," Adam Baker croons through a tangle of oxymoronic instrumentation.
They settle down to something far softer with the trickling, acid-tinged sweetness of "Hot Night Hounds"... which suffers frequent eruptions of blasting bass; that in turn is followed by the thumping swirls of the aptly named "Springtime," where you can practically hear the Earth's rhythms revving up again ("And every time it rains/it's the promise that it brings..."). From these songs, you can get a pretty good idea of what the rest of the album will be -- a harmonious clash between gurgly sunlit indiepop and raw indie-rock.
Some of the songs like "Always Do" have a country-folk feeling, others have a rough-hewn alt-rock feel, while some having alluringly trippy indiepop. But most of the songs sort of straddle all the fences -- we have thumping alt-rockers immersed in warbling melodies, sunny pop melodies that get invaded by cycling electric guitars, hallucinatory indie-rockers that end with acid-orchestrals and clopping hooves. The album hits its high in the finale, where the seemingly ordinary songs -- a flowing piano melody, a folksy string ballad, and a lovably jumbled pop tune -- take on a new sweetness.
Admittedly not all the songs are winners -- a couple like "Talking" feel too close to the generic rock that the music industry has always had too much of. Too little warbling, too little fusing of those seemingly overdone styles.
But fortunately these are the exceptions to the rule that "Such Fun" sets, deftly layering different styles and instrumentals as if they always belonged together. Between the evocative lyrics and the music, it makes you imagine all sorts of things -- some are all about the adrenaline-fueled mountain dances by firelight, and some sound like babbling brooks and morning sunlight shining through the trees. They definitely run the gamut in this album.
And they seem to be trying to do all they can with guitars -- we have ringing cycling guitars, folky melodies, blazing grimy riffs, and flowing countryish tunes that drift under a cloud of other instruments. Specifically: sheets of shimmering synth, churchlike organs, fast-moving drums and bass, and an exquisite little cloud of trickling piano and aching strings (which can in a pinch become squealy fiddling). We even get some weird soundclips included at seemingly random moments -- like the horse hooves that fade into handclaps.
And Baker's slightly hoarse, sweet voice just sort of weaves its way through the tightly-woven instrumentation, sounding a little plaintive in the quieter songs and like a sprightly imp in the louder ones. And he does a pretty wild job with some of these songs, singing of "tumbling down this mountain in December," eyes that won't close and hair that won't grow, and hoping that a lover will change her mind ("Maybe if I could tear off the tape/run the death from my face/an old man forgets all my songs...").
"Such Fun" suits this album, albeit with a sad undercurrent that runs under the tangled instrumentation. Definitely one to listen to, and allow to sink into your bones.