Artist: The Antlers
Album: Hospice
Year: 2009
Grade: 4 pretzels
It’s terrifying to think about the number of “highly anticipated New York indie bands” that have made it into the public’s consciousness in the past ten years. From the Strokes onward, the Big Apple has coughed up countless ranks of indie rockers this decade, hitting every stylistic point possible. This is a city (yes, I know it’s more like five, but work with me here) that has given rise to bands as far apart stylistically as Interpol, TV On The Radio and LCD Soundsystem. New York is clearly the place to be when it comes to up-and-coming music these days.
Of course, this isn’t really anything new. Nor does it show any signs of slowing down. As the last months of this decade fly by, Brooklyn’s the Antlers have been making some sizable waves throughout the internet. Pitchfork’s given them a solid stamp of approval and their debut, Hospice, is already wandering through the upper reaches of preemptive Best of the Year polls. By this point, I’m almost becoming jaded to the whole “buzzed-about NY band that’s awesome” atmosphere. The Antlers have a lot of linage to live up to.
To their credit, the band makes a valiant effort at doing just that. Hospice is rich with the melodramatic hugeness that made Arcade Fire and TV On The Radio such huge indie rock successes. Bandleader and frontman Peter Silberman posses an expressive, flexible voice, capable of playing extremes, from hushed, emotive whispering to desperate, earnest screaming. Hospice is wisely arranged in a way that showcases these dynamics, especially when the fragile “Kettering” transitions into the cacophonous “Sylvia”. With a retro-but-modern musical backdrop, living somewhere between the Walkmen and Sigur Ros, it’s an engaging and immediate production.
Hospice is also substantially more cohesive than most modern indie rock albums, since Silberman’s songs follow an overarching story about losing a loved one to cancer. Following this story arc isn’t essential to enjoying the album, but it sure helps, since you can see the interconnectedness of the themes from song to song. However, it’s in dealing with these heavy, morbid themes that Hospice runs into trouble. Weighty melodrama can work in indie rock, but in years past, it’s required a strong voice to keep things from getting to unbearably maudlin. Win Butler’s Springsteen-esque anthemic shouts in Arcade Fire’s music are a good example of this. Unfortunately, Silberman goes not posses such a strident voice and his expressive subtleties end up driving the Antlers’ music off the deep end and into an ocean of pathos.
Hospice’s closest relative in recent years, at least sound-wise, seems to be last year’s Songs In A&E, from English psych-rockers Spiritualized. Both albums are obsessed with human mortality and the stark simplicity of living or dying. However, where Spiritualized's Jason Pierce actually lived through a near-death experience, Silberman’s story on Hospice feels just a bit too crafted and poetically embellished to really capture emotions that ring true. It’s certainly a beautiful piece of story-telling, but the invisible wires pulling at your heartstrings are a bit too obvious.
Of course, this isn’t really anything new. Nor does it show any signs of slowing down. As the last months of this decade fly by, Brooklyn’s the Antlers have been making some sizable waves throughout the internet. Pitchfork’s given them a solid stamp of approval and their debut, Hospice, is already wandering through the upper reaches of preemptive Best of the Year polls. By this point, I’m almost becoming jaded to the whole “buzzed-about NY band that’s awesome” atmosphere. The Antlers have a lot of linage to live up to.
To their credit, the band makes a valiant effort at doing just that. Hospice is rich with the melodramatic hugeness that made Arcade Fire and TV On The Radio such huge indie rock successes. Bandleader and frontman Peter Silberman posses an expressive, flexible voice, capable of playing extremes, from hushed, emotive whispering to desperate, earnest screaming. Hospice is wisely arranged in a way that showcases these dynamics, especially when the fragile “Kettering” transitions into the cacophonous “Sylvia”. With a retro-but-modern musical backdrop, living somewhere between the Walkmen and Sigur Ros, it’s an engaging and immediate production.
Hospice is also substantially more cohesive than most modern indie rock albums, since Silberman’s songs follow an overarching story about losing a loved one to cancer. Following this story arc isn’t essential to enjoying the album, but it sure helps, since you can see the interconnectedness of the themes from song to song. However, it’s in dealing with these heavy, morbid themes that Hospice runs into trouble. Weighty melodrama can work in indie rock, but in years past, it’s required a strong voice to keep things from getting to unbearably maudlin. Win Butler’s Springsteen-esque anthemic shouts in Arcade Fire’s music are a good example of this. Unfortunately, Silberman goes not posses such a strident voice and his expressive subtleties end up driving the Antlers’ music off the deep end and into an ocean of pathos.
Hospice’s closest relative in recent years, at least sound-wise, seems to be last year’s Songs In A&E, from English psych-rockers Spiritualized. Both albums are obsessed with human mortality and the stark simplicity of living or dying. However, where Spiritualized's Jason Pierce actually lived through a near-death experience, Silberman’s story on Hospice feels just a bit too crafted and poetically embellished to really capture emotions that ring true. It’s certainly a beautiful piece of story-telling, but the invisible wires pulling at your heartstrings are a bit too obvious.
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