Absolute Noon by Feathers (Review)
Almost everytime I listen to “My Apple Has Four Legs,” the opening track from Feathers’ Absolute Noon EP, I come away with the same conclusion: Feathers could have just packed it up and called it quits after this track, and all would be well. I realize that sounds like a rather backhanded compliment, but what I mean is that the track is just so successful and packs so much into its runtime that it almost feels like an entire musical career condensed into 4 minutes.
The track starts off with a sparse piano that is quickly joined by interweaving layers of percussion — shuffling drums, shimmering vibes, clattering xylophone — and drizzled over top with fat, juicy analog squelches and whirling signals. It’s reminiscent of a possible b-side from Tortoise’s TNT (which isn’t too surprising with uber-producer John McEntire manning the boards and “shaping” the tones).
Before you know it, though, the song suddenly shifts into something a bit more exotic and Stereolab-ish, with a sitar adding a nice, worldly flourish. However, before that comparison becomes too fixed and stale, the track shifts gears yet again. Now it’s a whimsical, circus-like piece, the synths moving to the forefront and gamboling along like a couple of Studio Ghibli creatures — Totoro et al — enjoying a sunny day at the fair.
Although none of the tracks approach the level of activity as “My Apple Has Four Legs,” and as such, somewhat fall under its shadow, every track on the EP is still quite good. After the relative ebullience of the opening track, “Coral Fingers” wisely takes a more muted approach. Farfisas, sitars, and the ghostly whisperings of any number of synths from the group’s array add interesting tone colors and shadings, all while gliding along on percolating beats, shuffling drums, and the occasional steel percussion.
The EP ends with “Old Cutler,” a jaunty little piece of sitars, harpshichords, trilling flute melodies, and graceful string arrangements. The only element that feels missing is Sarah Cracknell’s voice. Throw that in, and you would have one heckuva Saint Etienne track. Without it, well, it’s still pretty dang good, and almost as packed with ideas and elements as the opening track. It feels like the group was running out of studio time and made one last ditch effort to cram in as many ideas and sounds as possible before wrapping things up, or a brainstorming session caught on tape.
The group (Eddie Alonso and Matt Crum, along with numerous contributors) keep the disc moving along at a pretty good clip. As a result, the songs’ obvious odes and similarities to other bands (Tortoise, Stereolab, Plone, Saint Etienne, etc.) never feel overbearing. Rather, they’re more like coincidences or afterthoughts.
Additionally, the fact that McEntire is the producer never really feels like a liability, like an obvious attempt by Alonso and Crum to simply tap into a particular sound or get some credibility. The duo’s music is thoroughly skilled and enjoyable enough to take on its own terms, obvious similarities and comparisons be damned.
It doesn’t hurt that the EP has a runtime of just under 17 minutes. Nothing has even the slightest chance of wearing out its welcome (the EP format is the perfect format for these guys, keeping things short and sweet). Sure, there are moments where the songs get a little too playful and whimsical for their own good. And sometimes, so much gets packed into the songs that it can make one’s head spin trying to figure out just how one part relates to another.
Still, to the band’s credit, the disc never really feels like a mess. More often than not, I’m just willing to let myself get caught up in a particular song and see where it leads me. So far, I haven’t been steered wrong. Here’s hoping the group’s next EP, due out this fall, is as bewildering and intoxicating as Absolute Noon is.