Review Summary: I'm just the same as when you saw me back then.
There’s something to be said about the ability of an album to create a completely immersive sonic experience. There’s a hell of a lot more to be said about those records that manage to balance immersion with intriguing musical ideas and a linear flow. Few bands have been as proficient at achieving this over the last decade than Fleet Foxes, or perhaps more accurately, primary songwriter, instrumentalist, vocalist and producer Robin Pecknold and (to an extent) a few other guys. Pecknold has never made it a secret that he draws a lot of inspiration from the baroque pop of the 1960’s, namely from Brian Wilson, and indeed as Pecknold continues to emulate the
Pet Sounds creator musically, so too do Fleet Foxes emulate the Beach Boys’ progression from a band dynamic standpoint; apart from perennial right-hand man Skyler Skjelset, the rest of the group has been relegated to “session musician” status, only appearing on the occasional track when called upon.
The fairness of this situation can be debated for ages, but what can’t be debated is how it has stimulated Pecknold’s willingness to be creative. After creating a pair of enjoyable (if somewhat “safe”) indie folk pop releases in their self-titled album and the
Sun Giant EP, the band went all-out with their sophomore full-length release, 2011’s
Helplessness Blues. If you’ll begrudge me the favor of using the phrase “modern classic” to describe a six year-old album,
Helplessness Blues is exactly that; an attempt to come to terms with the realization that “everybody and everything is cosmically insignificant, but maybe that isn’t such a terrible thing”. It showcases Pecknold’s compositional skills to be leaps and bounds ahead of where he was even three years prior, certainly his grasp of how to craft an album to flow effectively, if nothing else. But for as much as
Helplessness Blues has made an impact on the modern indie folk scene, Robin’s was a potential that still had much to be realized, so any further material of his was awaited by fans with much anticipation.
Enter 2017’s
Crack-Up, borne from the conclusion of a six year-long effective hiatus for Fleet Foxes as a band. And despite this lengthy gap in released material, Pecknold and Co. clearly see this record as building off its predecessor; the last notes in “Grown Ocean” from
Helplessness Blues flow seamlessly into the first notes of
Crack-Up’s opening track “I Am All That I Need/Arroyo Seco/Thumbprint Scar”. And the album makes no bones about the direction it intends to go in from the very start, with the opener’s structure being very progressive in nature as it weaves its way through different melodic feels and dynamics in the span of six-and-a-half minutes. Perhaps the biggest takeaway from the opening track alone is that this is not the sound of a band scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas; this is the sound of artistic rejuvenation and evolution.
If Brian Wilson’s influence was not apparent enough on essentially every Fleet Foxes release beforehand (even the 2005 self-titled EP that sold around 50 copies has some mid-60’s Wilson flair to it), it oozes out of every pore of
Crack-Up’s production. Pecknold constantly makes usage of “Wall of Sound”-reminiscent techniques, with layer upon layer of guitars, pianos and vocals given heavy doses of reverb to create a mix that doesn’t necessarily entice the listener so much as it envelops them. Indeed, had the artistic intent not been as focused as it is and the compositions not been as strong as they are, the mix would likely be seen as an annoyance. Instead, it gives the compositions a somewhat melancholy intensity to them, if such a thing exists. Listen to “Third of May/Odaigahara”, the album’s centerpiece and lead single, to hear this in action; clearly inspired in part by “The Shrine/An Argument” from
Helplessness Blues, there are times when Pecknold turns the track in creative-enough directions that it’s hard to believe you’re listening to an indie folk band and not just an out-and-out indie rock band (and an extremely good one at that). Yet not every song is given this overwhelming an amount of instrumentation, as the penultimate number “I Should See Memphis” proves by relying on nothing but vocals, a pair of strumming acoustic guitars and some ethereal-sounding strings to set the track’s mood. There’s a lot to chew on
Crack-Up, but the listener is still given room to breathe as well.
Crack-Up’s beauty lies in its subtleties, and with that status comes the additional status of being a “grower” of a record. But patience is a virtue worth possessing here, for it’s the subtleties that turn this record from “quite good” to potential “modern classic” (if you’ll allow me to use that term again). I’m still yet to be convinced if the lyrics are one of these; denser and far less “to-the-point” than those of
Helplessness Blues, it appears Pecknold has decided there’s less of a grand statement to be made on this record, though it’s heavily debatable whether that’s a judgement call due to his more satisfied state-of-mind or just from Pecknold heavily cloaking those messages in metaphors, alliterations or what have you. Either way, this is the one category where
Crack-Up’s predecessor still clearly reigns supreme. On the flip side of things, though, the album flow that Robin was starting to master on
Helplessness Blues has improved tenfold on
Crack-Up. Whether it be by sequencing or just general cohesion, the band has managed to take a 55 minute-long album with easily the least “accessible” tracks of their career and make it feel no longer than their previous albums. That’s no easy task, and it’s a testament to
Crack-Up’s atmosphere and the quality of production/music on it, as well as Fleet Foxes’ artistic progress in and of itself.
Enter the Brian Wilson comparison for a final time: as it stands, Robin Pecknold has managed to create not one, but two albums that have captured the spirit of perhaps the greatest songwriter in the history of Western popular music. With
Helplessness Blues, he captured the perspective, that of a man adrift and struggling to find meaning in life. Now, with
Crack-Up, he’s captured the production skills and the ever-forward-thinking and creative style of songwriting. Individually, both records will likely stand as classics in their respective genres. But combine the styles of these two albums, and you potentially have a genre-transcending classic album for the ages. Whether Fleet Foxes will ever be able to coalesce in that way and produce an album of that magnitude is totally up in the air; one has as good a chance of predicting a generation-defining album as they do of winning the lottery. What’s extremely clear is that the ability and potential is in Robin Pecknold to make further classic records, and in doing so, he could very possibly solidify himself as one of the greatest songwriters of his era. There’s certainly a number of steps to go before he reaches that sort of a benchmark, but whether or not he gets there,
Crack-Up will remain perhaps his greatest artistic triumph to date.
