Monday, June 22, 2009

Where the birds wait and the tall grasses wave

At times hearkening to muffled carols heard across a snowy thicket, Fleet Foxes cleverly combine captivating acoustics, smart lyrics, and bewitching harmonies on their self-titled album.
Though I must admit that I was initially put off by the seemingly anticlimactic tracks, I soon realized that this band had successfully drawn from some of my favorite artists; the strumminess of Iron and Wine, the distant, blended vocals of Simon and Garfunkel, the modern, catchy chant that The Shins capture so well. I dare say I am in love.
Perhaps the song that says it all is "White Winter Hymnal,"
replete with a fuzzy round and a driving tambourine. But it's the hallmark simple, yet figurative lyrics that attract me most. There is something in succinct, pastoral imagery that charms the most skeptical listener.

White Winter Hymnal
I was following the pack 
all swallowed in their coats 
with scarves of red tied ’round their throats 
to keep their little heads 
from fallin’ in the snow 
And I turned ’round and there you go 
And, Michael, you would fall 
and turn the white snow red as strawberries 
in the summertime

Fleet Foxes Picture

No comments:

Post a Comment