The Fiery Furnaces — Bitter Tea
(Fat Possum FP-1033, 2006, CD)
The Fiery Furnaces — Blueberry Boat
(Rough Trade RTA-83239, 2004, CD)
The Fiery Furnaces — EP
(Rough Trade RTA-83256, 2005, CD)
The Fiery Furnaces — Gallowsbird's Bark
(Rough Trade RTA-83226, 2003, CD)
The Fiery Furnaces — Rehearsing My Choir
(Rough Trade RTA-30060, 2005, CD)
by Cesar Montesano,
Published 2007-03-01





A circus medley of distinct musical apparitions like a non-nasal
Holy Modal Rounders of the twenty-first century with equal parts
Jonathan Richman, The Velvet Underground, and
Grease! Hey, Rizzo!
Listening to these two maniacs is a rollicking frenzy of traipsing
through some homemade musical mobiles. A blaring soundtrack to being
happy with all that life throws you can be a whole hootenanny's worth
of fun. The fact that this brother and sister duo have half a pork
chop each, ingenuity, and a wild sense of jumbled humor, kicks the
proceeding aural pleasures into high gear. Put button-downs on the
Ween camp, jump into your favorite Jimi Hendrix go-go boots, and saddle
up next to a computer to make up your own ditties, infectious and
inspiring is their main à la mode. The Fiery Furnaces' attitude is
certainly to be commended and lauded alike, there are too few bands
willing to take risks to be a fraction of this unique. Some of it is
certifiably genial. Idiosyncratic as they may be, the allusions and
references to Captain Beefheart and the Residents which are being
bandied about are only applicable when seeing though a limited and
skewed looking glass. The missing ingredients are: maniacal genius
and the calculated madness of the exactitude from crudeness exhibited
by these past masters of insanity in their output. Any mention of
Slapp Happy, Art Bears, News from Babel, or any of their many axes
is downright blasphemy — don't believe it. There are more prevalent
influences present in their catalog. Spates of Roger Powell keyboard
arpeggios, snatches in Mort Garson-speak, and Duncan Browne-isms, or
is that Elton John? Maybe a little of both. All these random mumblings
aside, this is a hot new band with lots of spunk and spirit. Consistently
awe-inducing? Not necessarily, but there are many flashes of brilliance.
Regularly astonishing? Sometimes they even manage to blow you out of
your chair with inventive ditties and abstruse stylistics. Super-catchy
every so often? Gosh, yes! This is the next wave of the DIY movement
that began in the late seventies and flowered into full force through
the eighties. Here we have heralds, intermingling the tempestuousness
of the mid-nineties burgeoning indie scene with its natural predecessor
on a catwalk, strolling. Being somewhat at the vanguard of the left-field
neo-indie-freak politic, they have a cult following, of sorts, ready to
gobble up every morsel and call it ambrosia. I have yet to be inducted
into such a morass of acquiescing characters, although I can surely
attest that they have talent and verve, in equal parts, quite a bit
of each. This portends well for their future recorded career even if
it does not reflect into what is presented from their stage performances.
Amateurism has its place, leading to many a breath-taking result when all
care and worry is flung to the far winds. This pair do that in spades and
come up with pieces that are analogous to so many platters of buffet
sandwiches. I used to buy fine Italian cold cuts, crusty breads, tangy
mustards, and varied cheeses from an old world style market. After some
time I found that they taste of all this deliciousness was not as fresh
as it once was. It took me a while to realize where my folly was stemming
from. In my eagerness to enjoy all and every flavor, without delay, I
had summarily been making what basically amounts to the same combination
ad infinitum: an "everything" hoagie. Once I recognized this folly, the
true experiments of expression began by my making significant choices
and decisions on what to include and what to leave out. This sort of
jurisprudence with regard to the kitchen-sink aesthetic dominating the
body of their releases should net many a catch. Listening to all of
their albums in a row is exhausting. It can be likened to a storytelling
defibrillator engulfed in acts of non-sequitur editorial. They could use
a healthy dose of curtail prowess to match their notational wits and
nestle these sprawling albums into tidily whittled and concisely
expurgated ephemera. But that is what everyone else is saying anyway.
Start with
EP, it's their most cohesive and controlled. Then
proceed to
Blueberry Boat for addled zaniness,
Bitter Tea
for a logical conclusion,
Gallowsbird's Bark to get into how it
all began, and then, only then, when you are ready to be fully immersed
in their familial world, grab the last piece of the puzzle with their
grandmother in tow:
Rehearsing My Choir.
Filed under: New releases, Issue 34, 2006 releases, 2004 releases, 2005 releases, 2003 releases
Related artist(s): The Fiery Furnaces