Fleet foxes folk/indie recipie will leave you helpless to resist

There is something purifying about the influence and effect of nature on the human soul. The music of the Fleet Foxes pulses through forest streams, manifests itself in green leaves, and will nestle itself into your eardrums like a tune from a fleeting songbird.

The band began turning heads with the mix of folk and pastoral imagery on their 2008 self-titled debut, but the release of Helplessness Blues adds to the formula and catapults it into another dimension.

Being a fan of indie folk, I was drawn in by the pre-release buzz surrounding the band and album. And the layout of the photos and tracklisting on the back reminded me a lot of Let It Be, a nice touch.

But when I popped this disc in I realzied it wasn't quite what I was expecting. This isn't your Bright Eyes, Iron & Wine, and The Tallest Man on Earth type of flolk; Helplessness Blues is more akin to the 70s singer/songwriter Crosby, Stills, and Nash type of folk. This is music to make you want to button up your tunic and go hunt buffalo on the Great Plains.

One of the main keys to what's going on here are the richly textured melodies and harmonies that sound as though they're descending from heaven. It's all layered atop a patchwork of intensely personal acoustic guitar passages, pianos, mandolins, marxophones, harpsichords, and even Tibetian singing bowls.

At the center of it all is Robin Pecknold's smooth, mellow cadence. One of his highlight pieces is "The Shrine/An Argument," which is one of the rare instances where he gets to show off the raw power of his voice, along with his magnificent range.

The lyric writing is also standout. They possess a very heartfealt quality to them while also being very colorful and detalied. "Lorelai" sees the speaker recalling a past love, a topic that's been covered many a time. But take a look at the way it's done here:

"You, you were like glue
Holding each of us together
I slept through July
While you made lines in the heather

I was old news to you then
Old news, old news to you then"

It creates a much more fully fleshed out picture you can easily see in your mind's eye.
"Bedouin Dress" was one of my favorite tracks, which speaks of the regret that a former thief/criminal has when looking back on the days of their youth. In it, the speaker yearns to return to Innisfree, an island well known in Irish lore/culture, but can't due to the choices he made.

"Lorelai" waltzes by at a nice easygoing pace and melody, while "Sim Salla Bim" and "Someone You'd Admire" strike a wistful, pensive mood. Truly, almost every song on the record is a highlight, but Helplessness Blues's title track shines brightest.

It is a combination of spitfire acoustic strumming, heady lyrics about finding yourself and taking a stand, and features a breathtaking shift in time signature near the song's conclusion. The fantastic imagery in the second verse shows off the brilliance of Pecknold's writing:

"What's my name, what's my station
oh, just tell me what i should do
I don't need to be kind to the armies of night
that would do such injustice to you.

Or, bow down and be grateful
and say " sure, take all that you see"
to the men who move only in dimly lit halls
and determine my future for me."

With Helplessness Blues, the Fleet Foxes have created a work that is fresh, bold, and adventureous. It is a fantastic record and is already one of the top statements of the year thanks to all the wonderful melodies, writing and moods that I can keep coming back to time after time.

Score: 95/100

Prepare to be swept up in the clutches of O'Death

It's not unusual to find a band that tries to pull off a broad range of styles. The ones that make it work, let alone the ones that master multiple techniques, are quite the rare breed.

New York based sextet O'Death mixes folk, indie, alt-country, and Americana into a blend that sounds as if it hails from a place closer to the Ozarks than the city that never sleeps.

If you've lent an ear to the band's previous efforts, you may have heard a punkier, rootier side of O'Death. Vocalist Greg Jamie has become known for going totally nuts during performances, evoking an image of a stark raving mad, possessed by a banshee, fiery eyed baptist preacher, seeking in vain to reach out to sinners in the hands of an angry god.

Expect less of that on Outside. The new LP is a much quieter, more intimate and more personal experience. It's a very moody album; it paints a portrait of despair, discontent, and the inevitably of death.

The lyrics on this album on the whole are nothing short of fantastic. The lead single, "Bugs," reflects on how fast life passes by, and how it can be a struggle to make the most of it. "Alamar" tells of a man who lost his lover, and his hope of one day meeting her again in the next lifetime.

Other tracks are more blunt in their imagery. "Look at the Sun" sees the speaker caught in nightmare in which he is buried alive. You can sense the panic as describes the struggle to breathe, with the dirt covering his lungs. "Ghost Head" features even more sinister imagery, describing blood that is still fresh on the narrator's hands.

"Don't Come Back" is a nice little pensive instrumental, impressively demonstrating that the band doesn't even need lyrics to be able to set a mood.

And then there is the closer, "The Lake Departed." With its driving organ, oppressive percussion, and muffled vocals, it sounds like a demented funeral dirge. Or maybe like the world's ending.

This song will scare the hell out of you, and make you weep at the same time.

Musically, Outside is pretty heavy on mixing a gothic sound into its folk/country theme, particularity in the opening strains of each song. The combination of fiddle, banjo, and ukulele work together to create melodies that are eerie and disquieting, but you won't be able to stop listening.

The main tipping point on this album tends to be Jamie's vocals. On first listen I didn't think he was that great. At times he seems to come across as a little too quaint; he seemed to be fulfilling a few too many stereotypes associated with southern/country type singers.

But it's key to realize what Jamie is attempting to do here. As you listen to his tales of loss and regret, you can begin to empathize and relate to him, and realize he's not so unlike yourself. It's like he's a good old friend you're taking a journey with, an effect I don't think they could have captured with a frilly, over the top style singer.

What type of person would this album appeal to? Although it's not quite the same bag, it's likely this album would likely appeal to fans of the O'Brother soundtrack. Also, fans of revivalist country acts like The Carolina Chocolate Drops or The Secret Sisters may find much to like here.

But the real question: could a country music fan appreciate this record? Think of it like this. This album is about as far from the gleaming lights and honky tonk of Nashville as you can get.

This type of music will make you understand what it feels like to be alone in a dark shed in Appalachia for 20 hours a day with nothing but your banjo and a bottle of moonshine, and nothing to think about except for how the end is going to come. It doesn't get any more real than this.

Outside is undoubtedly a major step forward for O'Death. They've gone from being a novelty throwback band to creating a work of art that is inspiring both musically and thematically.

So don't be afraid to get swept into O'Death's clutches; death's embrace has never felt more chilling, nor tasted so sweet.

Score: 85/100