Cassavetes is proof positive that a band doesn’t have to be experimental to experiment. The Atlanta quartet doesn’t do anything patently outrageous or archly weird in that Tom-Waits-channels-Captain-Beefheart, bang-on-an-anvil-with-a-rusty-rake fashion. It’s just that they approach their folky Americana from a hazily psychedelic perspective. Take “Song for a Singer� from their debut, Funny Story, for instance; as it ambles along in that gauzy way that Jeff Tweedy directs Wilco, vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Robbie Horlick mumbles the cryptic lyrics (they’re included, without a decoder ring) in a style that suggests Mike Nesmith on a quart of tequila, so that, like Michael Stipe on early R.E.M. albums, Horlick’s voice becomes an additional instrument rather than a vehicle to impart a specific lyrical message. There are moments of exquisite melodicism and moments of reeling dissonance, sometimes within moments of each other, as on the lurching “An Ancient Mistake,� where Cassavetes imagines Radiohead as an American folk band from the South. There’s plenty of textures floating in the sonic atmosphere; feedback, a lonely trumpet and white radio noise all drift through the title track’s tentative and melancholy, after-hours piano melody. And just to show they can, Cassavetes rocks with boozy abandon (“Moved So Slow�) and fumblingly deliberate charm (“My Heart, Your Beat�), like a certain solo Replacement we all know and love. It may require a couple of listens to fully comprehend Cassavetes’ motives; it’s easy to hear what they’re doing, the challenge is in hearing what they’re thinking.
Brian Baker
Release date: July 18, 2006
