Ezra Furman
Perpetual Motion People
July 6 2015 (Bella Union)
8/10
Words: Ed Francis
To me, there's an eerie semi-significance to the Pixies previewing an as-yet unrecorded new track 'Um Chagga Lagga' on the same day that Chicagoan Ezra Furman's third album as a solo artist was released via Bella Union. While the former continue to explore new sounds that help that continue to help them evolve away from the outfit that changed irreversibly when Kim Deal left in 2013, Furman demonstrates on Perpetual Motion People that he has bottled the exact formula that made the original Pixies so intoxicating- that dissonant blend of sunny melodies and a hint of abrasiveness- and is using it to produce music as urgent and vital as that group's best work.
Opening track 'Restless Year' sets the tone within a few seconds, a bright surf-rock riff segueing into an 'ooh-la' indie pop refrain, before Furman's commanding and slightly unhinged vocal presence tears in and sends the track down a delightful hairpin turn. The harmonies and fuzzy keyboards that follow evoke a kind of sideways, ragged blend of Brian Wilson and Jonathan Richman- timeless and thoroughly fresh all at once- and by the time Furman is hollering 'death is my former employer/death is my own Tom Sawyer' at the middle-eight, he should have your complete and total buy-in for what's to come.
As the title hints, this brand of irresistibly combustible pop characterises much of the Perpetual Motion People- 'Tip of a Match' and 'Hark! At The Melody' in particular are go-to serotonin shots that crackle with dark wit and in-your-face guitar clankery. However, the album is far from being all about instant gratification, and the further you venture into it, the more you come to realise that Furman is smarter than many contemporaries that can't manage to produce music that people might actually listen to past the summer. Rather than sitting on the one core template that has served him so well on previous releases, Furman explores a vast collection of other musical avenues on this album- within a few tracks of the opener it has evolved into a vastly eclectic affair encompassing saxophone jams ('Body Was Made'), roots-y acoustic slow burners ('Hour of Deepest Need'), and even full-scale ballads ('Can I Sleep In Your Brain').
In a manner reminiscent perhaps of Patrick Wolf, Furman seems to offer up this diversity not to draw attention but to satisfy his own internal requirements of self-expression- as if he can't tell the stories he wants to tell properly without drawing on a vast range of inspirations simultaneously. The end result is an album which overflows with colour, originality and heart. From tracks like 'Wobbly' to 'One Day I Will Sin No More', Furman glides from pageantry to sober sincerity seamlessly. That balance of hummability and opaque weirdness, the ever-present elements that hang the whole piece together, is maintained to such a perfectly-judged extent that nothing he attempts ever feels contrived. It's truly thrilling stuff- organic, with emotions that practically brim out of your speakers whether the track is dynamically loud or quiet (or alternates between the two). Like the best compositions of Frank Black and Kim Deal, the overall piece is sure to linger around long after the initial round of dorm-room plays comes to an end.
No comments:
Post a Comment