Jersey-bred indie rock golden boys Real Estate
arrived in the late 2000s with a subdued approach to guitar rock that
stripped away all unnecessary clutter and presented their tuneful songs
in a manner as attractive and steadfast as primary colors, spring days,
comfort food, or any of life's basic staples. Free of gimmicks,
pretense, and artifice, their tunes tapped into the insular,
college-aged melancholia of the Clean or Yo La Tengo's soft summer-night pulsations, later moving into a markedly Go-Betweens-steeped phase on their more sophisticated 2011 album, Days. With third full-length Atlas, Real Estate
grow even further into the sound they've been spinning for themselves,
mellowing more while they become more nuanced in both playing and
production. Beginning with "Had to Hear," the band's sound is decidedly
signature, based on chiming chords and lilting vocals from songwriter Martin Courtney, lead guitar from Matt Mondanile that wanders between psychedelic curiosity and airy punctuation, and the surefooted rhythm section of drummer Jackson Pollis and bassist Alex Bleeker.
All these elements feel increasingly familiar and confident. Their
songs have always resided somewhere between head-in-the-clouds
lightheartedness and day-dreamy nostalgia, but the ten songs that make
up Atlas
seem more mature, more deliberate, and lacking some of the carefree
naiveté of earlier work. "Past Lives" ruminates on the strange feelings
of returning to the neighborhood streets where the narrator spent his
youth, while "Crime" relates a relationship in peril to something more
harrowing and malicious. The upbeat "Talking Backwards" folds some of
the nostalgic melancholia into a gorgeously produced pop song about
long-distance communication breakdowns as bright and straightforward as Luna in their prime. The album was recorded in part at Wilco's
Chicago studio the Loft, and the production is less hazy and more
suited to the band's increasingly clear-headed melodies and expanded
sounds, filled out with understated organ and keys from Matt Kallman this time around. Even seemingly buffering tracks like the Mondanile-penned instrumental "April's Song" (more in line with his solo compositions for Ducktails) and the Yo La Tengo/Galaxie 500-modeled "How Might I Live," sung by bassist Bleeker,
seem to have a considered place in the album's flow. The songs float by
quickly, not giving all of their secrets away at first listen. As Real Estate
continue to grow into their own vision of pop, they take their place in
a history of classic American indie bands, falling naturally in line
behind the groups that influenced them as they add to the conversation
with each subsequent album
aCá
Bahamas' third studio album, 2014's Bahamas Is Afie, finds lead singer/songwriter Afie Jurvanen
once again guiding his folk-inflected Canadian indie outfit through a
handful of his own introspective yet melodically enticing songs.
Produced by Jurvanen with help from Robbie Lackritz (who produced 2012's Barchords), Bahamas Is Afie is a measured, organic album largely centered around Jurvanen's burnished, laconically soulful voice. Jurvanen,
with his penchant for yearning, rootsy songs full of twangy guitars and
poignant lyrics, often brings to mind both Canadian singer/songwriter Ron Sexsmith and American Blue Note artist Amos Lee. Which isn't to say that Jurvanen
doesn't have his own, beautifully layered, longing pop sound. On the
contrary, cuts like the opening "Waves," with its jazzy strummed guitar
and languid, summer-sad melody, and "Stronger Than That," with its
soulful guitar lines and gospel-tinged backing vocals, are immediately
memorable songs that get to the root of what makes Bahamas' sound so engaging. Elsewhere, Jurvanen
delves into several bittersweet acoustic numbers ("Can't Take You with
Me," "Nothing to Me Now"), as well as a few '70s soft country-sounding
songs ("Half Mine," "Little Record Girl"). Along with superbly crafted
material, Jurvanen
often dresses his songs with light horn and string adornments that
complement his more direct country and rock sensibilities. There is a
warmth, joyfulness, and sly humor to Bahamas' sound here that keeps you listening even when Jurvanen
turns toward melancholy sentiments, as he often does. Ultimately, it's
that juxtaposition of front-porch balladry, lyrical intimacy, and urbane
studio savvy that makes Bahamas Is Afie so unforgettable. As Jurvanen opines on "All the Time," "I got all the time in the world/Don't you want some of that?"
