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Rating:
"Ciocapiatti."
According to my girlfriend, a Bolognese term translatable as "plate clatterer"; when applied to music, it defines musicians who create a lot of noise without achieving any complete result. And it's always this amusing epithet that my girlfriend uses to label the New Yorkers Yeasayer.
I don't entirely agree with my better half's judgment, but there's a grain of truth in such a sharp judgment. Yeasayer are a reflection of these (musical) times: fragmented, deliberately without obvious artistic references, pleasantly melodic, and often disorienting. A band that crosses scenes and their listeners diagonally, seemingly out of trends at first glance but actually following a trend (a transversal one, indeed) that's very popular in these years of compulsive listening (see under the entry Animal Collective, Dirty Projectors, Liars). If the word hadn't already been overused, I would be inclined to define their sound as a true melting pot of diverse musics (and cultures).
The fact remains that "All Hour Cymbals" resembles an improbable multicultural dinner, where along with Hamburgers and the usual Texan Barbecue, you are served chapati, halal and kosher meat, cevapcici and gumbo, pizza and tortillas. The problem with so many different dishes and aromas always lies in their pairing. Often tasting flavors that are too different from each other can result in nausea.
Combining 80s and gospel atmospheres ("Sunrise"), India and Beach Boys ("Wait For The Summer"), Beatles-like vocalizations and accordions ("Germs") is a daunting task for anyone. We must give credit to Yeasayer for managing to blend these different elements in a rather fascinating way within the same track ("2080" above all), while also delivering two small gems like the little psychedelic pop masterpiece "No Need To Worry" and its dark counterpart "Wintertime."
The only flaw of the album remains the overall vision: frayed, polycentric but without balance, with too many shoes on their feet. For some, this is a virtue, but in my opinion, it is still an unripe fruit of a young tree. They have the resources and the age on their side, if they don't get lost along the way they can become an interesting reality.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
03 2080 (05:23)
I can’t sleep when I think about the times we’re living in,
I can’t sleep when I think about the future I was born into,
Outsiders dressed up like Sunday morning,
With no Berlin wall what the hell you gonna do.
It’s a New Year,
I’m glad to be here
It’s a fresh spring,
So let’s sing.
In 2080
I’ll surely be dead
So don’t look ahead,
Never look ahead
It’s a New Year,
I’m glad to be here
It’s the first spring,
So let’s sing.
And the moon shines bright
On the water tonight
So we won’t drown
In the summer sound.
If you find me I’ll be sitting by the water fountain,
Picket signs, letdowns, meltdown it’s Monday morning
But it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright
It’s alright,
Cause in no time, They’ll be gone I guess I’ll still be standing here.
It’s a New Year,
I’m glad to be here
It’s a fresh spring,
So let’s sing.
In 2080
I’ll surely be dead
So don’t look ahead,
Never look ahead
It’s a New Year,
I’m glad to be here
It’s the first spring,
So let’s sing.
And the moon shines bright
On the water tonight
So we won’t drown
In the summer sound.
Yeah Yeah we can all grab at the chance and be handsome farmers,
Yeah you can have twenty one sons and be blood when they marry my daughters,
And the paint that we left at the station will stay in a jar behind us.
We can pickle the pain into blue ribbon winners at county contests.
It’s a New Year,
I’m glad to be here
It’s a fresh spring,
So let’s sing.
In 2080
I’ll surely be dead
So don’t look ahead,
Never look ahead
It’s a New Year,
I’m glad to be here
It’s the first spring,
So let’s sing.
And the moon shines bright
On the water tonight
So we won’t drown
In the summer sound.
Yeah Yeah we can all grab at the chance and be handsome farmers,
Yeah you can have twenty one sons and be blood when they marry my daughters,
And the paint that we left at the station will stay in a jar behind us.
We can pickle the pain into blue ribbon winners at county contests.
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