Dick Dank Challenge #3: Orchestrating Simple Math

(Quick note from the desk of the FishLantern: Every so often Dick Dank and I will be "challenging" each other to listen to an album we haven't heard before, reviewing it after only a few listens. The hope would be that these lead to amazing revelations and deep insights that allow us to connect like covalent bonds over a new-found passion. In all likelihood, that will happen about a third of the time. Realistically, it will end up as a somewhat messy review packed with things we'll want to go back and change. In fact it's almost a guarantee we'll want to start from scratch after one only more listen or diving deeper into said album multiple times later in life. Let's see em'!)

     Sir Dankington felt that it was time for me to be exposed to some straightforward rock and or roll. After having dipped my toes into the world of The Stranglers and Destroyer, he has bestowed upon me the task of investigating Manchester Orchestra's Simple Math. Clearly, by writing for this site, we both have the urge to try and quantify an unquantifiable thing (music). This becomes inherently difficult because it's created on a different plane of thinking, especially for those of us (read: me) that have no real musical training. I feel this is why, when given something new to listen to, my first instinct is to attempt to find connections to other bands. This allows me to compare, compartmentalize and list the influences or similarities I hear. As the PhDank wrote when reviewing The Dead Trees, if we can attach their sound to a band we like, we've found a way of saying that we enjoy what we're hearing, without outwardly doing so (because you know, feelings are icky). It's dangerous though, because there are issues that can arise when one takes this approach. For one, the album could sound like bands we don't enjoy (which isn't the case here). Plus, it could sound like what we think certain bands sound like, even though we haven't listened to said bands enough to make an accurate judgement (very possibly the case here). Or, we can spend our time trying to force bands into a classified hole of the pigeon variety because it's what we know (very likely the case here). I'd like to think being aware of this will help me work through it when reviewing this album. It doesn't.

Simple Cover

      Throughout my first few listens into this 2011 release I hear (in no particular order) Modest Mouse, My Morning Jacket and tinges of Built to Spill. The problem becomes that I "hear" these bands but I only know one of them (BTS) well enough to speak confidently about. I've managed to leave myself in the odd position of therefore not being able to vouch for my own statement. This bothers me. Not because I don't enjoy the music, because I certainly do. More so, it bugs me because it's a reminder that the amount of music out there that I don't know enough (or anything) about is seemingly insurmountable.  For the time being though, I still have enough knowledge on said comparison bands that I don't feel like a completely asinine fool for making the connection. I dread the day when that is no longer the case.

      Simple Math is a reminder of why it's important to, at the very least, continue trying. The opening track, "Deer" is where the initial smack of MMJ struck me. The vocal line was a beautiful combination of styles that only exists in this modern period of music. Hearing it build with harmonies and horns only added to the connection. The separation came when the song ended, because if Jim James had been at the helm, the song would have built to a resounding conclusion. In this instance however, "Deer" ends with a feeling of resignation. The second track, "Mighty" opens with a dingy, heavy rock sound that is a complete 180. Filled with darkness and lush orchestration, the track is my first glimpse into their mutating sound.

      A prime example of this is "Pensacola", which comes across as their most poppy, accessible tune. Doubled vocals and a building rock beat groove along nicely at the outset. Twinges of Doug Martsch's semi-strained vocals appear for the first time. The quiet pre-chorus provides a nice respite leading into the drunken sailor, horn-amplified, shout-along shanty of a chorus/outro. Despite the somewhat downtrodden lyrical topics (as seen throughout), this tune seems like it would be an absolutely raucous time live. The apparent Doug-fluence continues with "Pale Black Eye". The stop-start nature of the guitar/drums, the weaving of the vocals/guitars in the chorus and the space to breathe amongst the keys and strings provide a familiar Spill-ian background that soothes me nicely. 

     Modest Mouse rears it's influential head with the start of "Virgin". Isaac Brock has a way of always sounding on the verge of absolute insanity, even when singing softly, and that shows up here. I always picture him singing wild-eyed and among the littered remains of various elements that failed to help him sleep for the last three days. That urgency, or missing sense of resolution, can be found throughout the vocal delivery, while again the orchestra is used quite nicely in combination with a horn section and a....children's choir? For whatever reason, a children's choir has always given me an uneasy feeling. In this case, hearing them sing about heavy topics presented me with a fascinating dichotomy that simultaneously intrigued me and gave me a slight case of the heebie-jeebies. Perhaps that was the point? 

        The opening vocal line of the title track again elicits some Jim Jamesian memories. Unlike "Deer", the similarities continue beyond the quiet beginnings, stretching into the build, the quiet bridge and the crashing conclusion. It's a really well done song that I know I am going to appreciate more when I have the time to absorb the lyrics. Throughout the first few listens, this is something that became quite clear; the content of the lyrics might be the thing I can end up relating to and appreciating the most in time. It's really cool to have a band that wraps up heavy ideas in catchy and enjoyable musical blanket, allowing me to unveil and appreciate the underlying heaviness only after repeated listens.  

       The album closes with, in my opinion, two of the better tracks. A catchy lick that reappears throughout starts off my initial favorite song, "Apprehension". It slithers in a way that is both comfortable and unexpected at the same time. The churning, viking ship-like drum beat of the chorus summons you to the return of that infectious lick, encircling the song in that strange combination of hopeful despair. The duplicate guitars that introduce you to the final track, "Leaky Breaks" almost have a prog-rock feel to them (as does the seven plus minute length), but that is quickly replaced by reserved vocals and minimal instrumentation. The tune moves along at this languid pace, allowing for a few excellent solos (great tone) that help to bring you back from the (lyrical) cliff of sadness. As mentioned before, I feel this musical life raft is going to seem all the more necessary once I get deeper into the content and context. 

Except my analysis of it of course.

       In the end, aping your influences is a fine line to walk. In one way, it can be seen as a badge of honor. A band is essentially professing "this is who we like and we're fine with sounding like them." At other times though, the "influence" can stray dangerously close to being an outright facsimile or at the very least a poorly done copy. It's excellent to pull from those you love and appreciate, but at the same time you want to create your own little musical niche that you can build on. Manchester Orchestra does a jim-dandy job of taking the acts (I think) they sound like and sewing them throughout their songs in a way that is more of a doff of the cap and less of a treacherous smash and grab theft. Unless you're in the brain of John Frusciante, there have been 40-50 solid years now where bands have attempted to find ways to reinvent the musical wheel. As someone who often fails in his attempts to immediately quantify what I hear, this is both a blessing and a curse. I've got plenty to draw from, but I wonder if I'm missing the real connection. Thankfully, it seems that MO has left sprinkles of bread crumbs showing where they came from, all the while leaving plenty of room to expand out on their own.

Final Score: .82 Dick Danksing All Over Me's