Grizzly Bear: Yellow House
Yellow House is a masterpiece that improves on its lo-fi predecessor in every facet.
Review by Dave Anastasi
When Grizzly Bear's debut album Horn of Plenty was released two years ago, fans and critics alike pidgeon-holed the band into the indie's ever-growing lo-fi category, painting comparisons to the likes of Iron + Wine, Animal Collective, and Devendra Banhart. But, the difference between Grizzly Bear and those other artists is that Horn of Plenty turned out to be "lo-fi" for the simple reason that founder Ed Droste was an inept recording engineer. But, for an album that was produced primarily in a Brooklyn apartment by someone with no intention of distributing it to the general public, I think he did a fantastic job.
Well, two years passed, and Ed got a little help from his friends. The result is Yellow House, an album that builds and improves on its predecessor in every facet. The production is cleaner and doesn't get in the way of the music. The songwriting is more focused and confident. The performances are tighter and more inspired. Grizzly Bear has hit their stride.
I don't know anything about Droste's writing process, but his music has such a surreal dreamlike quality that I have to wonder if insomnia plays a role. Contained within this album are lyrics, melodies and structures that could wake up and torture a songwriter at 4AM. I can just picture him getting up the next morning and committing last night's disruption to tape, and finding his recording washed out in melancholy due to lack of sleep.
Or maybe that's just how I feel when I listen to it.
In my much younger years, there were certain records that I would really experience-- I'd turn off all the lights in my room, lie on the floor, and crank up the stereo. Meddle by Pink Floyd, Close To The Edge by Yes, and Nick Drake's Bryter Layter were a few of the albums that received that treatment over the years. I may just have to dust off my old ritual for Yellow House.
My first listen was at the office, with my constant cadence of mouse clicks and typing competing for center stage. My second listen was a more committed one, and I heard exactly what I was missing: the subtlety, the emotion, the atmosphere, the complexity. Opening track "Easier" begins with a choir of flutes which is soon accompanied by piano, guitars, glockenspiel, keyboards, and drums. Then, Droste sings, full of clarity and body, a big change from the his lo-fi days. The production is magnificent, and this music deserves no less.
"Lullabye" begins quietly, with acoustic guitar, flute, vocals, and glockenspiel floating over a loose waltz. It has a very timeless quality to it, and reminds me of the quieter side of Peter Gabriel-era Genesis. The song builds on the repetition of the lyric "Chin up, cheer up," and we are treated to one of the many perks of recording with a full band. The drums and bass kick in and the emotion begins to pour out of the instruments and voices in a way that just can't be accomplished with overdubs onto a four track.
"Little Brother" is a playful tune driven by guitar, banjo and a well-crafted melody. It's middle section features a dreamy sequence with some wonderful vocal parts. "Marla" is an atmospheric masterpiece, a dark waltz orchestrated impeccably, featuring piano, percussion, and a killer string arrangement. Following is another highlight, the multi-faceted "On A Neck, On A Spit." Meticulously arranged, this piece exhibits the incredible attention to detail the group employs while crafting their songs. It feels like every single note has purpose, and is exactly where it should be.
Grizzly Bear demonstrates a lot of patience, both in the songwriting and the performance of the pieces on this album. In this world of three-minute pop songs, this album may require a bit more patience on the listener's part as well. I'm here to say that it's definitely worth it.