Punch Brothers: "Phosphorescent Blues" Review
I have nothing better to do at the moment than press black rectangles with white letters to make black letters on a white rectangle, so here's my thoughts and ramblings pertaining to Punch Brothers' most recent and arguably most captivating album: The Phosphorescent Blues, potentially Punch Brothers' equivalent of Radiohead's Kid A.
To clear up some misconceptions and bad speculation, it is not "Punch Brothers selling out or going pop." It's not a bluegrass album either, but it doesn't try to be, not in the slightest. It's more akin to Radiohead than anything, but even then, it's impossible to define this album as any one thing without missing the other 99% of what it is and what it can be. The album as a whole is incredibly diverse and explores many possibilities, but nothing is tangential; it is very much cohesive, so it's best heard from start to finish. It makes for a great listen late in the night, in pitch blackness with eyes shut, closing out the rest of the world so that this world can be explored without distraction.
Punch Brothers do not pigeon-hole themselves into any one genre, style, mindset, or perception, instead choosing to walk a thin line between the visceral and cerebral aspects of music, balancing emotion and technical ability in a way that's neither exhaustive nor erudite. It's orchestral, but not over-produced. Along that thin line resides a music that is unpredictable to the listener, but makes sense and provides rewarding moments as it unfolds and reveals its hidden structure, and it's this nuanced region of the mind that Punch Brothers thrive in.
If you'd like to sample the album, another thread has posted a link:
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/a...lay.html?_r=1&
1. Familiarity:
The opening track has more development and breadth than most albums have in their entirety. The album begins on a very whimsical, almost innocent note, with each instrument ebbing and flowing in and out beneath the melody like tranquil currents in a playful stream, but it quickly descends into a percussive, vaguely eerie segment, defined by echoing pulses in a void of silence that draws the listener in. From this empty framework, an expanding crescendo fills in the missing pieces until the full sonic image is in place, with soaring vocals and intense rhythm, and that begins to incorporate the whimsy of the beginning, but with a newfound sense of grandeur, which then passes over and subdues itself to a soft, optimistic conclusion.
2. Julep:
Familiarity flows seamlessly into the second track, which has a more regular structure but is sprinkled with spontaneous subtleties, a distant dance in the corners of the mind. Very understated, but never underwhelming.
3. Passepied (Debussy):
Classical homage is alive and well in this track: dainty, brooding, balanced as ever and insanely captivating, pompous without pretentiousness, ticking away in a calculated and slightly concerned manner.
4. I Blew It Off:
The track that sparked early fear and doubt in this album's merit, I Blew It Off was the source of accusations of selling out to lousy modern pop. In actuality, it's more reminiscent of the older, better pop and hints of classic rock, but only vaguely so. The musical complexity expected from from Punch Brothers is alive and well, even moreso considering that they've dared to include electric guitars and a drumset to their usual acoustic quintet of instruments and still maintain their balancing act of visceral and cerebral. In context with the album, it declares full abandonment of the mental pacing in circles, blowing off all of the stress and underlying grievances.
5. Magnet:
What can I say? It's downright catchy fun. I'd call it a guilty pleasure if not for the fact that it's still masterfully crafted with a touch of the sly sultriness of the James Bond theme if you know where to look.
6. My Oh My:
This track would be the definition of "Phosphorescent Blues" if it was a genre: the familiar building blocks of blues, but with a funky 70's vibe and a grandiose flair of high rises, classic cars, art deco and vintage neon. The vocals on this track are stunningly triumphant and intimately spiritual in different segments, finding beauty in the small wonderful bits of joy in the world.
7. Boll Weevil:
The token "bluegrassy" track on the record, "bluegrassy" in quotes to imply that it's being used as a vague suggestion rather than definitiveness for all of the nay-saying purists. It actually sounds more like something that could've been in the soundtrack for Holes, fitting for a dry, dusty hell-hole of bad luck and burning sky with it's deep, dark, driving beat and a clever stutter-step in the timing. Drowned without water and burnt without flame, trouble's a-brewin' but nothin's to blame. Hidden, nagging pests start to undo the choice of simply "blowing off" one's troubles and responsibilities.
8. Prelude (Scriabin):
The shortest track on the record, but one of the most beautiful. The music-box-like banjo chimes, jangles, shimmers and rings beautifully against the guitar in this waltz. A nice musical treat and a bit of an audible breather.
9. Forgotten:
The album takes another haunting turn, almost at the point of accepting defeat after eight tracks of persistent but somewhat doubtful optimism to combat themes of loneliness. At its lowest point, the vocals reach out and pull the tune up from despair in a comforting reassurance, wonderful continuity and resolution amidst an album of turmoil.
10. Between 1st and A:
One of the more abstract tracks on the album, it makes effective use of silence like Familiarity did, but without that innocence from the intro of the opening track, making it...not familiarity. That's just clever. The song progresses with some newfound confidence and steadfastness, perhaps as a result of the reassurance in the prior track. The recurring lyric sums it up: I'll never dwell on leaving if I'm going somewhere."
11. Little Lights:
The actual meaning of Phosphorescent Blues is finally revealed: two presumably doomed lovers singing "phosphorescent pinks and blues," two torn halves to a whole which can only be reunited in fond memory, shining like the distant stars of faraway yet familiar constellations, reference points for navigation "back to where we are from want to be," perhaps a cautionary message not to lose one's self in the great folly of the irretrievable. People and possessions come and go, and if you try to bring them back once they're gone, you'll only lose them twice.
Overall, a phenomenal album. I'm unable to find any real faults with it, simply because it is all crafted and executed so well. Every note is created with a purpose, and every note fulfills that purpose perfectly for the greater good and cohesive theme of the album. Even better is the fact that subsequent listens reveal more and more of the hidden, underlying structures, making each song more and more rewarding as the listener finds more things to enjoy. The Phosphorescent Blues is a thought-provoking, engaging experience, and I would highly recommend it.
--Tom
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by jaycat
Bookmarks