It’s rare to hear a band cite the Muppets as an influence. Not as a joke but sincerely, Jim James extols the virtues of the Jim Henson half-marionette-half-puppet troubadours. In a recent interview with azcentral.com, he claimed, “They opened my eyes to what can be done to make people laugh and smile and cry, what you can do to people in a wondrous realm.”
The lead singer of My Morning Jacket must be onto something too, because across the country critics are turning on to the band’s first major label release.
The band’s third album, It Still Moves comes two years after its previous effort, Dawn (2001). The Louisville, KY five-piece has been compared to everything from the Flaming Lips to Neil Young.
James’ voice definitely has a country twang, and songs like “Dancefloors” bring that tone to the forefront. James keens and croons in plateauing vocals, soaring high then coming to rest in a barn-dance leader’s wavering accent.
“One Big Holiday” is one big teaser. A kinetic guitar line ramps up arpeggios. Smattered with delay, it plays its own accompanying harmony, then a minute in the song collapses on its face, back into a melody line almost verbatim from “Dancefloors”. The change is only temporary though, as the first guitar line returns to assert itself in a blazing two-minute solo.
“I Will Sing You Songs” is perhaps the most textural song on the album. A shambling guitar melody weaves over pulsing, ambient burbling. Flaming Lips fans will sit upright as James comes in with a distinctly Wayne Coyne keening, right down to the harmony; think “Do You Realize” (Flaming Lips, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots) slowed down a couple of metronome clicks — beautiful and delicate, surrounding the listener.
There is a definite barroom aesthetic to songs like “Easy Morning Rebel.” If the title isn’t warning enough, James’ vocals drive the point home. It’s not a completely predictable affair, though, as horns and distorted guitar add much-needed body to James’ voice.
Not everything is perfect, though. While MMJ gets credit for sticking to the atmospheric studio space of an abandoned silo, a device that has served the band well, there is much to be said for variety of production. The reverb-heavy space imbues the music with amazing analogue reverb; high notes seem to melt and midrange tones bandy about for eons before fading away. Reverb is the star of the album.
However, the effect is not singularly pleasing. There are reasons not to record in silos, too. Often the individual voices of instruments drip together and muddy otherwise sharply constructed songs. Much of the nuance and interplay that takes place between band members is obscured behind the silo/studio’s formidable presence.
Still, this is a subjective issue. The reverberation of the huge space adds a classic dimension to It Still Moves, and many listeners will be enraptured by the liquid flow of echo.
Even with this in mind, the songs are still here. “Run Through” is much like “One Big Holiday,” modulating between fast instrumental solos and textural ether.
“Rollin Back” opens with a wall of vocal harmonizing, reminiscent of Brian Wilson, then shifts into dulcet guitar lines, each note hanging in the air like a diamond. The guitar line restructures and rebuilds itself, culminating in the pleading, “Oh I never say I knew / but my heart can’t wait / to meet you on the other side.” Here the pulsing silo is an integral and well-used resource, and the song grabs right behind the sternum. Even at a duration of eight minutes, it’s hard to let the track go.
My Morning Jacket puts forth an admirable introduction. Easily accessible, It Still Moves is easy to pick up and love. In the end it’s really a lack of expanse; an inability to leave the beautiful echoes of a church and look at other worlds that restricts the album. Though it keeps My Morning Jacket from transcending to a higher plane, right here is pretty nice.
Rating: B
