In a world cluttered with histrionic pop and R&B vocalists, it is almost a shock to hear the clear, breathy, beautiful tones sung by Postmarks’ front woman, Tim Yehezkely. Her voice is a pop songwriter’s dream, and her work onstage, as well as on her band’s self-titled debut, places her in the upper pantheon of dreamy female chanteuses such as Leslie Feist, Dominique Durand (Ivy), Laetitia Sadier (Stereolab), and Beth Ditto of The Gossip (kidding).
As with each of these sirens, behind the woman is a young man with a record collection filled with James Bond soundtracks and Burt Bacharach singles. In the case of the Postmarks, it is Jon Wilkins who helps showcase his singer’s dulcet tones by crafting stunning, intricate pop songs that would be #1 hits in a braver world.
Although the Postmarks’ self-titled album, released on Ivy songwriter Andy Chase’s Unfiltered Records, has been garnering a smattering of critical acclaim from print and online publications, the hype has apparently not reached the general public, as evidenced by the poor showing at Portland’s Doug Fir Lounge. The crowd was so scarce that, right before the band was to hit the stage, an associate of the group encouraged us to move our tables and chairs to the middle of the room. While it had the odd effect of turning the feel of a smartly designed club into that of a supper club, the intimate atmosphere seemed quite appropriate to go along with the Postmarks’ gauzy, lush brand of pop music.
Only a trio in the studio, the band augmented their sound with the addition of a bassist and a keyboardist, in addition to turning the material from their album inside out by adding spacey Moog work, synth drones and sharp, charged guitar playing (courtesy of the aforementioned Wilkins) sending the songs in a near-shoegaze direction. Not surprisingly, the new arrangements worked smashingly, adding richness and texture to the band’s already colorful repertoire. Yehezkely and Wilkins also paid an unwitting tribute to their English forebears, shaking no more than a hip throughout the band’s entire set.
There might have only been a handful of people present, clustered around square, candle-lit tables in front of the Doug Fir’s stage, but we all felt like we were in on a delicious little secret, drinking in pure pop bliss for an all-too-brief forty minutes.
--Robert Ham
