Review Summary: Ezra Furman's album is full of ideas, none of which really stick.
The artwork to Ezra Furman’s new LP, The Year of No Returning, may remind some of you of an early 2000s indie favorite in the United Kingdom, Andrew WK's I Get Wet.
But the similarities between the two young gentlemen end there. In fact, I’d wager that while Andrew WK’s nosebleed may have been brought upon by ‘partying too hard’, Furman’s is more likely to have been caused by a pre-existent medical condition that made him a social leper in his teenage years.
That being said, it is clear what is so appealing about his music: he has a nasal whine a bit like Alec Ounsworth’s, but less annoying, and he effortlessly shuffles between bare-knuckle garage rock and impressive sounding folk numbers bordering on chamber music.
Furman’s strong presence prevents this variety of styles from sounding incoherent: however, the songwriting is less than inspired, and the lyrics are rife with witticisms that try too hard.
A bit like this review.
