The Fire is playful, but doesn't shine
On The Fiery Furnaces' latest record, the sibling duo has strayed a little too far into abstract territory. It's still interesting music, but it doesn't have the appeal of their earlier work.
Published April 21, 2006
One of the greatest joys in listening to music — to find the intended meanings that dwell behind enigmatic, elusive lyrics produced by the unstable minds of musicians — can also be a great frustration.
On most occasions, this does not present a substantial problem. But it gets difficult when words grow progressively less comprehensible and, in the instance of Bitter Tea, the fourth proper full-length release by The Fiery Furnaces, the band loops the vocals backward.
On their newest release, The Fiery Furnaces, a.k.a. sibling duo Eleanor and Michael Friedberger, have composed another spattering of musical conundrums that will raise the eyebrows of its listeners. Although it maintains the characteristic playfulness easily recognizable on the band's previous work, it is clear that that the Friedbergers have crossed the line in a quest for originality.
In many instances, the siblings have had their vocal lines reversed. On "The Vietnamese Telephone Industry," it's virtually impossible to understand what the hell they are talking about without looking at the album booklet.
That's not to say that this innovation is bad. On "Nevers," the reverse-speak and the regular lyrics are matched up, which makes compelling and even addicting unorthodox sounds, despite incomprehensible lyrics.
At times, Bitter Tea fails to live up to the spontaneity commonly associated with The Furnaces. This is almost predictable, because of the repetition present in some of the electronic noise as well as Eleanor's lyrics on many of the early tracks. On the first track, "In My Little Thatched Hut," Eleanor continues to repeat "in my little thatched hut" with scarcely any variation.
Despite these noted faults, the album manages to construct some memorable and lasting musical lines that make it listenworthy.
"Borneo," one the most dynamic and animated tracks of the album, is pushed forward by the continuous interplay of electronic and traditional elements as well as Eleanor's rapidly chattering voice. There is a relapse in the excitement midway through the track. We hear Eleanor's voice rambling and, at times, speaking seemingly nonsensical gibberish.
The band's music is both interesting and cryptic because of its use of convoluted wordplay and slanted rhymes comings from Eleanor's mouth and complimented by Michael's cacophonous beating of his piano and synthesizer. It's an inimitable style that has a distinctive place among indie contemporaries.
