erasing clouds
 

The Casting Couch, Row Your Boat

reviewed by dave heaton

"The Casting Couch is what happens when a couple of Athens, GA indie-rockers who love alt-country move to Austin and meet three alt-country Texans who love indie-rock." - first sentence of press bio for The Casting Couch

I offer the above PR quote not out of laziness, not to parrot what's already been said and just call it a day, but because it serves as a good starting point for outlining what makes The Casting Couch's debut album Row Your Boat so special. For there is an equation at work here (and on their debut EP, reviewed here), some sort of balance between genres. Terms like "alt-country" and "indie-rock" won't take you the whole way to understanding, but they're a good place to begin. You need a reader's guide, though:

When you read "alt-country" think not of the hyper-traditionalists who mimic the past, nor of an Uncle Tupelo-like country-rock fusion. Think about a laidback Texas sort of country band, with accordion and pedal steel and an appreciation for an open landscape, a sunset, an old country song on the radio, and a beer. Think about the highway poets and troubadours, about the storytelling legacy of Texas songwriters.

When you read the words "indie-rock", don't think about loud, feedback-soaked rock, don't think about the O.C. soundtrack, and don't think about whatever flavor-of-the-month band you were just reading about. Think about smart, skilled, knowledgeable pop-rock musicians who know their music history, who've heard their fair share of records, who appreciate a great melody, who like to play around with arrangements and instrumentation, and for whom independence is valued for the sake of creativity, for having the freedom to make the music you want. Read the words "Athens, GA" and remember the Elephant 6 collective, and then know that one member of The Casting Couch, Lynn Boland, played with Summer Hymns and other E6 bands.

Those Elephant 6 bands had a knack for arranging instruments within a song. The Casting Couch is definitely following that path – the right instruments (organ, glockenspiel, accordion, tuba, handbells, etc.), harmony vocals, hand-claps, and sounds all add appropriate textures to complement the mood and melody of a song. The tendency to get carried away with creative instrumentation is reined in, accentuating the down-to-earth, grounded feeling of the music, a quality propelled by the gorgeous ache of Wendy Mitchell's lead vocals.

Row Your Boat's opening song, its title track, is a rollicking number, a word-heavy, rolling portrait of writer's block. The stylistic contrast between that and the second track – a tender "Song About Dying" that's moving for its bluntness – is great, yet the Casting Couch is adept at both moods, and others. At times the music is full and energetic, at others it's brittle yet full of feeling. Sometimes it's almost magical, the way the lyrics, tune, and instrumentation come together just right, and tear into your heart unexpectedly. Yet it isn't magic, just talent.

"Poetry" is a dangerous word to use to describe song lyrics, yet Mitchell's lyrics for the Casting Couch do have that uncommon poetic quality of being ambiguous yet full of meaning. There's songs where I literally have no idea what she's singing about – the lullaby-like "Circumstance", for one – yet while listening I'm hooked by every word, and every word sparks a reaction, a feeling, a thought. "Pancho Villa" might sound like a biographical story-song if you're not listening carefully; listen close and it gets complicated, as the narrator's personal story merges with the historical one. Other songs take common adages and twist them in unique ways, like "even broken words are right two times a day" or "if I should die before I wake, I know it won't be my first mistake". The catchy, lush "Mix Tape" - the one song co-written by Mitchell and Boland (one other is written by bassist Julie Stiles, the rest by Mitchell alone) – starts with objects that stand as the only remnants from relationships past and proceeds into a free-ranging commentary on memory and time.

Every song on Row Your Boat, no matter how simple it seems at first, reveals layers the more you listen. Layers of meaning, layers of sound, and emotional layers, too. It's a fun album, light in tone, yet there's a hefty emotional and intellectual power to it as well. It's that rare album that's filled with so much – hooks and textures, questions and puzzles, tears and smiles – yet you always end up wanting more, ready to hear it again.

{www.ieatrecords.com, www.onthecastingcouch.com/}


this month's issue
archive
about erasing clouds
links
contact
     

Copyright (c) 2005 erasing clouds