Odawas: The Blue Depths

Having never heard of Odawas before, I did a brief Google rummage which turned up this useful blog on their site, entitled "10 Records to listen to in preparation for the Blue Depths - an explanation". However I am approaching the list in reverse, as I have only heard one of those LPs, despite having heard a lot about the Dennis Wilson reissue and then forgetting to seek it out. Listening to The Blue Depths (the group's fourth album and second for Jagjaguwar) makes me want to hear those records, but not enough to distract me from this refreshing and surprising album.

On the surface this is not my kind of music. I doubt any of my close friends would imagine that this is one of my favourite records of the year so far... I was fully sucked in to the albums radiance by the time the fourth song 'The Sound Of Lies' started out with processed panpipe sounds and a very eighties, cinematic synth-piano line plucking images from within my mind. The closest approximation I can make is that it sounds akin to a Pet Shop Boys collaboration with Neil Young. Michael Tapscott's light vocals blend perfectly with the euphoria of the song: they are touchingly expressive. He closes out the piece almost a capella as the swirling synths diminish, repeating the mantra "so maybe I'll leave it all behind" to devastating effect.

Returning to the Neil Young comparison, the following track 'Secrets of the Fall' tingled my spine just as 'Natural Beauty' from Harvest Moon does, the melody is also reminiscent. Much of the album is characterised by this paralysing and life-affirming romanticism. Odawas' take on it is authentic and doesn't earn the compliment just because it has nailed the sweeping, echoing production that works so well in conjunction with the melodic invocations. It's interesting that on the "10 records" list, the band say this:

"I've got a really bad guitar rock problem, I'm not sure to when it dates back, but I really have no time or patience for Led Zeppelin, I don't even dig Neil Young jams anymore. When did this problem start? Will it end?"

Maybe it's because they've absorbed and re-kindled the songwriting form into a new colour of fire. Even though I can happily listen to a sixteen-minute rendition of 'Cinnamon Girl' I am glad that these two guys skilfully avoid indulgence. This record shares so much with cinematic electronica that it would compromise the visibility of the songwriting if they stretched it further. They also mention Scott Walker's seminal album 3. It might be going a little far to say that Odawas sound like Neil Young if the man had never left his electronic leanings circa Trans, but instead grew an affinity with them and delved like Scott Walker into the potentials of the sounds while also re-incorporating the acoustic guitar. That is quite some hyperbole, but The Blue Depths is inspiring enough to encourage my unabashed enjoyment to radiate out.

There are also some stunning juxtapositions of organic sound forms with synthesis. The final song 'Boy in the Yard' ends with some beautiful wailing harmonica (this from a man who hates the harmonica most of the time) and some quivering bell sounds from a synthesizer, while expansive electronic drones oscillate and hand percussion echoes in an underground cavern. This compositional ability recalls Talking Heads at the top of their game in the early eighties. I bet David Byrne would get into this; it shares the sense of openness that is found in his best work. But Odawas' pop sensibility is perhaps too slow to achieve quite those levels of acclaim in the mainstream media. Each of the eight songs is nuanced and the sequence is very well considered. Some of the heavy sadness that drives 'The Case of the Great Irish Elk' bleeds over into 'Swansong of the Humpback Angler', but the latter has lifted its head slightly.

I don't think the Animal Collective merit the praise heaped upon them, yet I can imagine that their fans will find The Blue Depths a very worthwhile listen. At the risk of sounding like I'm trying to start a playground fight, I think this release eclipses Merriweather Post Pavilion although I realise that they are very different beasts. Odawas have a longer attention span and a much more enveloping style of production. I hope they receive the attention they deserve; in my opinion a combination of talents like these is a very rare occurrence. I also hope that the LP comes with a lyric sheet, as the spaciousness is so seductive and enjoyable that it draws my attention away from listening to the words.