|
Finally offering up his debut full-length as Zookeeper, former Gloria Record and Mineral mastermind Chris Simpson manages to meld his former emotionally-riven songwriting with his more recent exuberant pop sensibilities displayed on Zookeeper’s eponymous debut EP. Becoming All Things presents an impressive sweep, and though some of the songs undoubtedly rank among Simpson’s best (a high claim indeed), the album’s constant alternation from upbeat explosions to plaintive, falsetto breaching ballads is an uneven balance, and the changes in pace unfortunately only seem to detract rather compliment the whole.
At it’s best, the album allows Simpson’s loose collective of musicians to run wild, including the talents of Alex Dupree and ubiquitous horn contributor Kullen Fuchs. The rumpus room enthusiasm is no where better employed than on opener “Snow in Berlin.” The song kicks off the album with an informal “Ok, here we go,” as the drums roll and brass flares. Over a bouncing piano, Simpson’s voice playfully lilts along and distends in the chorus of “The snow in Berlin, Cover-ing everything, In white dress, Making us all look like, Such creatures tonight,” leading the song to a wonderfully caterwauling conclusion behind harmonica and guitar. The shift into the second track’s acoustic guitar and heavy piano notes registers the intent of Simpson’s range, and musically the song’s shift is not a distraction. The problem with “On Madison Way,” is the same that continually crops up across the album: Simpson’s vocals slow to an emotive crawl, stretching each line out to the edge of tolerance. Combined with the characteristically faltering pitch (which serves Simpson well on the more rollicking numbers), the high croon is unnerving, especially as he draws out “Gloria in Excelsis Deo.” “Glory to God in the Highest” shouldn’t necessarily refer to pitch. Likewise for the soaring and unrepentantly lingering lines of “Trumpets,” which overpowers some great wandering electric guitar moving along with the piano in disjointed swells.
Even these moments that hearken Simpson’s more emo inclinations wouldn’t be so grievous an intrusion if the songs weren’t also each largely lasting well over 5 minutes (the longest clocks in at 7:34). The diversity would work well if adding weight to the more carefree stomps, but instead it is the outbursts that save the album from succumbing to its opposing heaviness. “Ballad of My Friends” comes in welcome relief with an old school Wilco pop that compliments the opening, and “Al Kooper’s Party Horn” is an quick shot of electric-buzzed jazz-funk breakdown in homage to the Blood, Sweat & Tears founder.
Not all of the slower songs warrant skipping, however. “On High” is a gorgeous acoustic number braced by piano and organ, and Simpson has steady control of his vocals even in the highest swells. “Boy & the Street Choir” is an equally gentle tune, with rain washing in the background, and Simpson’s voice given a slight nasally tinge reminiscent of Michael Nau of Page France, a sound also prevalent in the title track as it works in banjo, mandolin, and melodica. “Everyone’s A DJ” stands out above the others, though, the song showing the most promising balance of the band’s diverse, excited instrumentation and Simpson at his lyrical best. After the resonator guitar opening, the song slowly builds with a chaotic dissonance before finally dropping to a soft close with the lines “But Everyone’s a DJ, Everyones a critic today, We’re all miracles and maybe’s, Trading passion out for safety. It’s a compromising world.” Ending the album with the easy, joyful sway of “Born With Things To Do” couldn’t be a more fitting send-off for Zookeeper. It’s clear Simpson was, indeed, born with a number of great things to do, even if Becoming All Things is hindered by its uneven execution.
Mp3s from Becoming All Things:
Trumpets
Ballad of My Friends
Websites:
www.zookeepersworld.com
Myspace
