The Album Leaf is a band that dangerously walks the line between beauty and boredom.
The band — or, more accurately, its leader Jimmy LaValle — has long been concerned with the construction of quiet soundscapes where the drums are ever-present but non-obtrusive, the occasional vocals are monotone and act as another instrument, and the idea of distortion should never, ever be mentioned.
On his latest, A Chorus of Storytellers, LaValle doesn’t try to do much to change his formula.
But this time, it works rather well.
The driving force behind the album’s success is the drum loops, which, by and large, stay constant throughout a given song. They end up forming a sort of canvas for the other instruments — bright guitars, Rhodes piano, synthesizer pads, strings — to rest on top of.
The loops themselves are made up of distinct sounds, many of which wouldn’t fit into any traditional drum kit. As a result, the loops remain interesting and don’t need to be constantly changed.
The exceptions occur on the tracks that feature LaValle’s layered, unaffected vocals. The drums sound more natural, and with the inclusion of a voice, the track sounds more like a song than a foray into ambiance.
But at the same time, the songs with singing, which account for a bit less than half the album, tend to not be as fully realized as the instrumentals. When LaValle sings, it seems he is worried about boring the listener, so he compensates by adding more instruments and sounds. But he does this to the song’s detriment. The best songs on A Chorus of Storytellers are the ones that stay simple throughout but remain captivating.
For instance, the gorgeous “Within Dreams” begins by introducing its handclap-heavy, hip-hop-esque beat before adding on a dulled synthesizer tone that rarely gets more complicated than a whole note at a time.
By the time the strings come in to take the melody, the song has rooted itself so firmly, with its barely-changing drum loop and background synthesizer layer, that each cymbal roll and newly introduced instrument is more cathartic than the last.
Offers such as the penultimate track “Almost There” come across as an unnecessary pile-up of sounds worsened by LaValle’s repetitive chant of the title. “There Is a Wind” is similarly overstuffed and overstays its welcome by at least a minute.
That’s not to say these songs are awful. They’re competently made, as they should be — this is LaValle’s fifth full-length studio album — but comparing, say, The Appleseed Cast-lite “We Are” to the final song “Tied Knots” is just unfair.
Where the former song is admittedly catchy, there’s nothing to grasp on to amid the volley of sounds. The beginning of “Tied Knots,” on the other hand, features nothing but a sighing synth pad, an intermittent piano and strings. It’s easily the most beautiful moment on the album.
Those willingly listening to The Album Leaf are those who aren’t clamoring for loudness, and occasionally LaValle seems to forget that. His attempts at constructing pretty collages of sound are nearly all fantastic: it shows he’s had experience. The more straightforward songs, though, suggest LaValle isn’t quite confident as a vocalist or at least isn’t confident in making songs based around vocals.
Again, the tracks are all well constructed, but there’s too much added damage control, and the songs muddy up as a result.
All LaValle needs to do is come up with more songs, such as the stunning “Until the Last” or the thoughtful, slow “Summer Fog,” and understand he excels most in that area. If he keeps it smart and simple for a full album’s length, he may, one day, stumble across something incredible.
RATING: 3 out of 5 stars
jwolper@umdbk.com
