Band of Horses

There's nothing better than the total shock of an amazing record that comes out of left field; and the "where did this band come from?!" Google searches you're compelled to perform to satisfy your hunch that this band must've changed their name... there's no way this is a debut. Sure enough, Seattle's Ben Bridwell and Mat Brooke formed Band of Horses after ten years as the backbone of Carissa's Wierd.

It's clear from the opening wall of guitars on the album's appropriately-titled first track, "The First Song," that this is a band that had an extensive record collection in the early '90s. The influence of dreampop and shoegazer favorites such as Galaxie 500, The Ocean Blue, Slowdive and Swervedriver can be felt throughout the album's tight 10 track, 36-minute span. Unlike other dream pop bands, they don't over-indulge themselves as musicians. The songs are tight, focused and powerful instead of tired and sleepy, atmospheric and beautiful but with a punch in the gut. The delivery on standout tracks "Wicked Girl" and "The Funeral" have the spirit and intensity of mid-'90s Chapel Hill heroes, Archers of Loaf. Which isn't too shocking considering Bridwell is in his late 20s and grew up in the Carolinas.

Bridwell's voice may remind (and possibly annoy) some fans of fellow Pacific Northwesterner, Doug Martsch (Built to Spill). His voice may be limited, but it is in and of itself a uniquely tuned instrument that soars...and despite the lyrical subject matter, never mopes or whines. This is a band having fun while gazing at their shoes, as evidenced by the opening "Yee-haw" to the stellar fire-up track, "Weed Party."

Despite all the comparisons, this isn't a band aping the sounds of their predecessors. Their sound and their songs are as refreshing as the Pacific Northwest air that flows through their lungs. Let the hyperbolizing begin: "best debut album since ___"; "best new band since ___". You won't be finding a better name than Band of Horses to put in those blanks this year. - Doug Kamin

Band of Horses is the phoenix ascending from the carcass of Carissa's Weird, Ben Bridwell and Matt Brooke's former band. (But what happened to the proposed November 16th?) While the penchant for beautiful melody is present everywhere here, that's pretty much where the similarity stops. Whereas their former project centered itself on slower-than-codeine-cough-syrup-on-a-cold-day, lushly textured sad-pop, Band of Horses is a full-on indie rock band that writes and plays loud, raw, mid-tempo pop songs and really loves Neil Young. Gone are the slow, layered, weepy, singly tempoed songs of heartbreak and loss. No more violins, no more space, no more, no more. Bridwell's vocals are stretched here (and they could be mistaken for Wayne Coyne's or a young Young's on first listen), but he and Brooke have a different m.o. here. They play a plethora of instruments between them, from banjos to pedal steels and piano, and Chris Early pays bass along with an assortment of drummers that includes touring kit man Tim Meining, though Sera Cahoone (another ex-Clarissa's) sits in the chair on about half this set. The ramped-up electric guitars are a welcome wind blowing through this heavier, denser music. Check the dreamy Chris Bell-meets-Crazy Horse "First Song" or the snare-popping "Wicked Gil," with a killer six-string finale. "Funeral"'s dynamic hints at something less meaty but then kicks into gear. It's nearly anthemic. There are more meditative moments, though. The country-ish "Part One" is acoustic and tender. But "The Great Salt Lake," which follows it, is simply majestic. There is a Beach Boys melody in here somewhere (perhaps something extrapolated from "Sloop John B"?) and Bridwell's vocal warbles dangerously close to B. Wilson's, but is much murkier -- a more blissed-out, distorted jangle-fest. "Weed Party" is a silly, raucous country-rocker that crosses the Byrds with latter-day Hüsker Dü. The closer is the spare, meditative "St. Augustine"; it's as beautiful as Young's "Through My Sails," from Zuma. Everything All the Time isn't a perfect album. It gets a little long in the tooth in places and samey-sounding. The exuberance is the mirror image of Carissa's Weird's downer reserve; it's as if the fellas were trying really hard -- perhaps a little too hard -- to distance themselves from their previous incarnation. Nonetheless, it's a decent first effort that warrants repeated listening. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide