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On Fleet Foxes, Sparing Doses & Fringe Indie

I still have some unfinished business to write about, but I’ll need to feel inspired to return to The Stand-Ins before I can do that. At the moment, I’m taking much more pleasure in some old records, particularly Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love.

Maura has some thoughts (re-blogged and otherwise) on Fleet Foxes, and I recently caught up with PGWP to read his thoughts on their self-titled album, so I thought I’d chime in for my personal record.

Maura (and others) argue that there is something terribly sad about a band that seems to exist for nothing other than the possibility of licensing or sponsorship.

I was thinking about this while on the train back from Long Island today, about how music like Fleet Foxes and other seemingly made-to-be-licensed “indie” increasingly seems only to be really “indie” as far as its up-with-pop-music attitude, i.e., seemingly not wanting to connect with a mass level of people but in reality wanting to connect with a mass of the right kind of people—you know, the sorts of creative professionals who can then get at least one song in an ad. That could speak to the whole “Bob Ross” feeling it gives off; empty prettiness is both the means and the end.

In this day and age, there’s certainly a fair amount of bands who wittingly or otherwise exist to do little more than market to a culture of fringe music fans. Note: I said fans, not listeners. And the people who buy $.99 songs on iTunes because they heard it on a commercial or in an episode of The Hills are as much to blame as the people who write songs for that audience … it’s not a pleasant state of things but it’s not revolutionary. Here we are whining about albums and bands that are little more than wallpaper, but their biggest crime is that they wrote a catchy pop tune or are just too pretty, not quite edgy enough to really sit outside of the mainstream machine. The history of radio and pop music reminds us that this isn’t a new trend, it’s just the new generation of the same issue. Bands used to release 45s with two songs, and that endeavor was with one intention – to get one single song on the radio, so that hopefully some girl in an ice cream shop would run to the store and pick it up. One song. Maybe two. Now we have bands that crank out much more than that, but not for a much different purpose. There’s always going to be groups that aren’t creating for the sake of it, but stamping Fleet Foxes with that brand might be a premature move. They’re so young, let’s see if they create two more records that are equally applauded, then I’ll make my decision on their motives and capabilities.

For now, it’s pleasant — and beyond that, it’s a bit more on the outskirts of copyright ready pop music that some might think. They leave some room to breath in their songs, they don’t rush through things. They let space work its own magic on the melodies and structures, and they seem to take a simple pleasure in the openness that provides the music. I admire this, it’s the reason why I enjoy records like Spirit of Eden and Codename: Dustsucker (among others, like Rook) — there isn’t a rush to anything, there’s an appreciation for simple things like pregnant pauses and elegant piano parts. Fleet Foxes are good at this, most often when they’re letting the vocal work loom like a giant balloon in the middle of the living room: it’s huge, gorgeous and unavoidable, and it’s all that’s there. What’s so empty about that? Why can’t spare and simple arrangements be real, too? Have we learned nothing from Brian Eno?

I’m positive that Maura (and others) don’t want to say that it’s not possible to be pretty, simple and also great, but I still feel compelled to point out that sometimes it’s those simple compositions that strike me as the most complicated — especially in an indie music climate that seems obsessed with mashing, smashing and espousing a sort of everything all the time mentality to arranging. That’s an entirely different subject, though, and it deserves its own post, probably.

Perhaps accidentally, PGWP almost resolves Maura’s issue with the “Bob Ross pretty emptiness” she and others perceive when he says, “…the songwriting is sparse, letting the voices fill the air instead, and the song structures are often more complex than typical pop.” This is exactly the reason the record isn’t in the same category as the faceless indie background music (“creative-professional indie” as Maura calls it) most of us find offensive and boring. The division is clear to me, but perhaps I’m simply making a personal choice, not a compelling argument here when I say that it is completely possible for music to be simple, sparse, open and (yes) pretty while still being great. Not just good or nice or capable of being in a commercial, but great.

Whether of not Fleet Foxes is great isn’t really something I want to take up. I like them, their live performances are impressive, perhaps moreso than the record, but I haven’t ever felt like I had to hear them. When I do, I enjoy it. My primary issue is like something PGWP mentioned in his piece too — what’s with all the reverb? Why on earth would you sit in the recording studio with talented people, all of whom are able to sing and harmonize effortlessly, and drown it in that effect when the best thing which could possibly come from it is a comparison to My Morning Jacket? My smart boyfriend said, “That’s a style now, you know.” What’s a style? Needless effects that pigeon hole your group before you’ve had a chance to tour on the record and prove that you’re not hiding something behind all those reverberations?

Anyway, I want to go listen to some Eno and Hollis and forget about indie rock now for a bit, but stay tuned, before this week is out I’ll finish bitching about bands that have five or ten needless instruments on every record and for some reason feel like cramming them all onto an album makes their music more legit. Just because your drummer’s girlfriend owns a cello doesn’t mean you need it on your record.

Comments for this entry

Good post (and not just because you quoted me!). I saw Maura’s post (and all the reblogs) over the weekend–by the way, that’s the second Sunday in a row Maura’s had a “why Fleet Foxes?” post–but I haven’t had a chance to respond. There was a kind of pile-on with the tumblr bloggers that I just flat-out disagreed with. You got onto some of it here – the worst claim is that they are “empty.” I do think there are a couple of songs that lack substance, but they’re also the songs with little to no lyrics. I think when Pecknold brings the lyrics, he brings substance. “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song,” “Your Protector” – both are rife with imagery and drama.

Anyway, I’ve been slow to craft a full response because I too have been in an anything-but-indie-rock mood lately. In fact, I was listening to Eno on the way to work today…

I feel comfort now in my frustrations with the current state of indie-rock. The overwhelming sense of becoming a jaded, music snob of a fan has weighed heavy lately and is now, somewhat relieved. Give me some substance already!

The other night as I walked down 7th street, I found myself drawn to the sounds seeping out of Plush. As I made it down the block, almost to my car, what I could make out of the music being played, encouraged me to explore who was making this sound and how good it really might be. The idea of discovering something with potential in it’s infant stage was titillating. How often does this happen? The place was packed, and the song that was being played when I entered the bar, was good. Good structure. Guitar tone was great. Drums placed with an educated sense of purpose, but something was amiss. As the next song began I took notice that the band consisted of 2 horn players tucked in the dark shadows of the small venue, and the sound that emitted from the trumpet and sax was a flat hum that leveled any good intentions the song may have had. In addition, the keyboard player managed his instrument with the confidence and skill of a virgin in a room full of willing prostitutes. I went from titillated to deflated in a matter of minutes.

So, I completely agree with you on the needless instruments bit.

I’m really not too qualified to weigh in on this because for some reason or another I just haven’t really given this album a full spin. From the songs I’ve heard, it’s really sweet and easy on the ears, and it sounds like there’s more to it than just “pleasant”. Honestly, sometimes I’m in the mood for that kind of inoffensive, unpretentious, doesn’t take it self too seriously sound that the Yacht Rockers embodied so well. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to listen to Peter, Bjorn & John, seriously.

Robin

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, oddly enough, and it’s even been about Fleet Foxes in particular. I like ‘em, but I’m aware how dangerous that is here in SubPopLand, now that they’ve won two “Best of Seattle 2008″ awards in last week’s Seattle Weekly. I realize they’re practically Hanson now.

Honestly, it seems like there is an ever-widening gap between what can be appreciated within the bounds of indie “culture” and what cannot. As usual, and just as with any other form of art, the critics would like very much to be the ones deciding which artists belong on which side of the rift. As for myself, I’m becoming more and more aware that “smart” and “clever”, “gifted” and “talented”, “wise” and “ironic”, “brave” and “cocky” are becoming two sides of an argument that the indie community is having with itself.

Maybe it’s just me, living in the belly of the beast for the time being, but I miss being able to get into a band because a friend likes them, seeing one of their shows, thinking they’re rad enough and buying something at the merch table on the way out.

I actually overheard two guests at a party a few weeks ago sifting through my iTunes:

“How can they have Fleet Foxes if he doesn’t have Wolf Parade?”
“Seriously. I guess it’s kinda cool that they has some old Yoko Ono, though…”

They didn’t pitch in for the vodka they drank either.

“… their biggest crime is that they wrote a catchy pop tune or are just too pretty, not quite edgy enough to really sit outside of the mainstream machine.”

Exactamundo. Music, like any art form, speaks differently to everyone who encounters it. Enjoying it is a completely subjective experience — which is what makes talking about it (or, I should say, CAN make talking about it) so much fun… if your eyes and ears are open, you might find yourself pleasantly surprised or intrigued by someone else’s perspective.

That being said, when the discussion stops working as an interesting exchange of ideas and instead becomes an expression of stern judgment – of the artist’s motives, of the competence of the listener/viewer/reader to have an opinion, of whether or not the art fits neatly into rigorously defined categories of what does/doesn’t qualify as cool – it comes off as an expression of ego.

Is there a value to creating something out of the mainstream? Absolutely. Does that mean, reflexively, that anything in (or near, or perceived to be near) the mainstream is, by definition, without value? Of course not. None of which has anything to do with whether or not the music of Fleet Foxes is actually any good… but has everything to do with the idea that Fleet Foxes’ popularity, whether real, perceived, or even theoretical via potential mass-marketing exposure, defines their music as worthless.

Yvette

Although extrememly well written, your blog depresses the hell out of me. It makes me not want to read write or listen to music, for fear of not doing it right :(

baconfat

Just because your drummer’s girlfriend owns a cello doesn’t mean you need it on your record.

If she’s hot and you’re going to bring her on tour, I have absolutely no problem with this.

On a peripheral note, Yvette’s comment made me laugh out loud.

[...] performance. I don’t restrict myself to listening only to albums that relate that way (my issues with Fleet Foxes notwithstanding, reverb can be great sometimes), but I’m always thrilled when I uncover an [...]

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