Fleet Foxes – Crack-Up (Nonesuch)

0

 

After a six-year leave of absence during which time bandleader Robin Pecknold moved to NYC to attend Columbia University, Fleet Foxes have released their third album. But it seems that Pecknold’s studies may have gone to his muse, leaving fans with the sound of one man disappearing up his own liberal arts diploma.

The title of the new album, Crack-Up was inspired by an F. Scott Fitzgerald essay of the same name. Throughout the 11 tracks on the album you’ll run across references to Greek mythology, Spanish painter Goya, the American Civil War, Beowulf and yachting. It’s as if Pecknold transferred the notes from his University classes into his lyrics.

If it all sounds a bit pretentious, you’d be spot on.

Even the song titles scream pretentiousness: I Am All That I Need/Arroyo Seco/Thumbprint Scar…and that’s just the first track. Later you’ll run across Mearcstapa, – Naiads, Cassadies and Third of May/Odaigahara, the latter is the near-nine minute centrepiece of this alleged concept album.

Lyrically, Pecknold waxes poetic while name-dropping mythical female water nymphs and obscure Greek gods, but his stream of consciousness word-play, while clever, leads nowhere.

Musically, this is an extremely ambitious work. In addition to the 20 or so instruments Pecknold plays himself, he has employed an army of string and horn players, a choir and the other four core members of the band to realize his musical vision.

There are moments that recall Brian Wilson’s Pet Sounds, which isn’t surprising considering that Pecknold obsession with the recording studio seems to match Wilson’s.

Unfortunately, while the music is no-doubt quite lush and beautiful, there is nothing here that remains with the listener after the last note has faded. There are no hooks, no memorable choruses, just layers upon layers of sound.

With all this time, musicians, instruments and studio gadgetry at his disposal, this was no doubt a fascinating and satisfying process for Pecknold. But we, the listeners, are left with a sprawling, incoherent mess that, no matter how many times it’s experienced, leaves virtually nothing of a lasting impression.

Back in the 1970s, prog-rock bands such as Emerson, Lake and Palmer, King Crimson and Yes were accused of being self-indulgent, pretentious and dull while producing albums with titles such as Larks’ Tongues In Aspic, Works Volume 1 and Keys To Ascension.

With Crack-Up, Fleet Foxes have produced their own Tales Of Topographic Oceans. And like that 1973 Yes title, it’s a bloated, self-important musical statement that says absolutely nothing.

Marty Duda

Marty Duda
Latest posts by Marty Duda (see all)