By Darcie Stevens
Published on August 8, 2008 at 1:41am
Where the hell did the Sour Notes come from? Jared Boulanger’s new fourpiece rips out the gate with jaded pop gem The Meat of the Fruit. It’s the best of all worlds: hints of Postal Service, boy-girl harmonies, bittersweet lyricism, fresh songwriting, beautiful home production, and a voice a million girls will fall in love with. Opener “Weak at Heart” starts fey and blows up angry, “Leslie Burke” breaks the clouds with summer simplicity and reverb, and “A Woman or a Grave” is all effortless smile. Who said pop is boring? Here’s hoping debut LP Received in Bitterness, dropping later this year, is even half as juicy.
By Jim Bricker
Published on August 7, 2008 at 1:41am
Austin-based indie pop quartet The Sour Notes released their first album, the six-song The Meat of the Fruit, back in May, and celebrated at The Mink/Backroom in Houston by playing their first show ever. Over the past few months, I’ve spent quite a bit of time with this record in a variety of settings – in the car, at work, while walking, curled up on the couch. The verdict? The Meat of the Fruit is a great companion for any of these scenarios. As for me, I think my favorite listening time was in the mornings, ambling through Montrose as I made my way to the bus stop. Mornings are a solitary, contemplative time for me; I see them as an opportunity to recollect my thoughts and sift through recent events. How perfect, then, to have my ruminations accompanied by the reflective, expansive gem that is The Meat of the Fruit. The Sour Notes have succeeded in creating an accessible album that many people can relate to.
On my first listen to The Meat of the Fruit, I was sure that lead song “Weak at Heart” was my album favorite; this might have been influenced by its inclusion as the set closer of the performance I attended at The Mink. Repeat listens do nothing to diminish its charm; it’s certainly one of the strongest tracks on the album. Simple keys at the top of “Weak at Heart” are the perfect lead-in for frontman Jared Boulanger’s gentle vocals, and the song offers listeners their first glimpse of his plaintive lyrics. Guitarist/keyboardist Chris Page, bassist Brandi Dipietro, and drummer Travis Hackett also make their presence felt by painting bittersweet landscapes with their respective instruments.
“Weak at Heart” sleekly flows into “It’s Easier to Be a Hypocrite,” which begins with a fine example of Boulanger’s characteristic writing tone: “There’s nothing worse than can’t give back/What you’re still feeling.” From there, the regret flowing from his heartfelt lyrics is almost palpable. Also of note are the backing vocals on this song – they meld particularly well with Boulanger’s voice. Next up is “The Truth in Our Lies,” one of the slower tracks on The Meat of the Fruit. The atmosphere created by the haunting keys, spare drums, and gloomy bass combined with pensive lyrics make for a rather chilling listening experience. Utterances like “I’m trying to fill the emptiness/with secrets inside my head again” further congeal the song’s eerie aura.
“Leslie Burke” opens with the sound of rain, which aptly sets the mood for the darker, more subdued material that follows. Boulanger’s airy vocals establish a ghostly effect from the beginning of “Leslie Burke,” the song that claims the title for most lyrically concise on the album. It includes only three different words, but manages to say so much more. There’s something fresh and guileless in Boulanger’s voice, and he effectively conveys a whole host of emotions using only the word “I.” Repetition has a powerful effect here, with each iteration of the pronoun building upon the previous. It sounds as though Boulanger is attempting an apology, but can’t seem to locate the right words for the occasion. Perhaps, however, it only sounds like stalled penitence to me because of the expectations of regret built by earlier songs. The lyrics of “Leslie Burke” are subtly suggestive; the rest is left up to your imagination. He could easily be attempting to express either affection or regret. The absence of substantial vocals also affords an opportunity for the other band members to shine. The sparse, scattered instrumentation doesn’t follow the traditional structure of a pop song, and the results are compellingly ethereal. A hi-hat roll starting at 1:34 heralds the introduction of denser instrumental elements that continue to build throughout the song. After several listens, “Leslie Burke” has managed to surpass “Weak at Heart” as my (current) favorite from the album.
From there, the album journeys to the delicate and unhurried “Trivial Pursuit,” which brings to mind ’50s-era pop. “Put the memory behind me/I know it’s gone completely…I know you’re gone completely,” Boulanger sings, and listeners are taken back to the unambiguous territory of remorse. The beginning of album closer “A Woman or a Grave” finds Boulanger’s vocals accompanied by only Dipietro’s bass, but the quiet is quickly and deftly expelled by the circus-like introduction of the rest of the band’s instrumental contributions. Later, the bridge takes the song in a new, darker direction, featuring lyrics like “Stand and wait on a steel beam rafter/And you don’t care what comes after.” Either Boulanger has experienced a few rocky patches, or he’s got a dysphoric imagination as far as romance is concerned. Whatever the case may be, his starkly honest lyrics are appealing.
The Meat of the Fruit sounds like a midnight slow dance with a lover that you know you should leave behind; it feels like a light rain that’s refreshing, but not healing enough to wash away your wounds from past disappointments. Many of the songs would fit perfectly in a wistful break-up scene in an indie movie with a soundtrack handpicked by Zach Braff – and I mean that in the best possible way. As a whole, this effort by the quartet rewards repeated listens. Their bridges are well-placed and help each piece to maintain freshness without becoming cloying. The attention given to programming is obvious, as all of the tracks flow nicely into one another. Also worth mentioning is that the album was mixed by sound engineer Steve Christensen, who did an amazing job (as always).
While Boulanger’s voice isn’t sensational, it’s a pleasant and fitting complement to the style of music he’s chosen to pursue. His skilled songwriting is unquestionably enhanced by the talented cast of musicians he has behind him in Hackett, Dipietro and Page. The Meat of the Fruit is a strong debut from this young group, and it definitely left me anticipating their follow-up. The Sour Notes are currently working on their second album, Received in Bitterness, which they plan to release later this year.
The band’s next live appearance will be on August 22 at Emo’s in Austin.
