Austin Sound

For a band that has already conquered the Austin music scene like a frenzied Cortés-with-a-smile, it may seem superfluous to name an album “Exposion”. In no short supply of prior popularity, White Denim is guaranteed to capture at least an ear or two with its first full-length album. Indeed, it’s amazing this group got so far without having a full-length up to this point, but their success rests on one key fact: by melody if possible, by force if necessary, White Denim compels the listener to have fun.

In their latest release, currently available only in digital format, Denim has crafted 11 meandering, spastic glimpses into an alternate universe where, villain or hero, everyone taps a toe and snaps a finger in time. By title alone, opener “Don’t Look That Way At It” clues the listener in to the forecoming kaleidoscopic explosion of sound. Starting with a garbled guitar sample as its ground floor and then building up to the sky with layer upon layer of chords and hums, the song immediately takes a life of its own. James Petralli’s voice rolls out “darlin’/ I can see it’s a calamity that you’ve been through,” a line that only hints at the band’s curious qualities as a cure-all for a bad day. Like the vocal child of James Blunt and Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Petralli’s voice is both ethereal and animalistic. He begins with a curious crooning tone that canoodles with the listener’s ear before sliding into a series of joyous, wordless cackles. Backing him, Josh Block’s cymbal-heavy drum beats keep things moving along nicely; while his drumwork is rhythmically interesting, it remains grounded enough to allow Petralli to explore both vocally on guitar. Steve Terebecki’s mid-boosted bass ties the madness together nicely with a funk-influenced bounce before falling back to a more traditional role during the more driving parts of the song.

“IEIEI” continues in a similar vein. Taking its name from the sound Petralli makes during the chorus, the track is surprisingly comprehensible elsewhere. Weird juxtapositions abound in the album, and “IEIEI” is no different. The song builds to a cymbal-slamming climax before cutting back to a simple acoustic strum that seems to be one part lullaby, two parts metallic-clacking white noise. Petralli sings,“I’m climbing up a tree/ so high that I can see/ little humans constructing highways… big city/ are you flirting with me?” Luckily, Denim has the Prozac-fueled confidence to flirt back.

“WDA”, one of several instrumental pieces on the album, still finds ways to feel good even without Petralli’s saccharine voice. Josh Block backs off the cymbalwork and offers simple but rollicking snare beats as trebly guitar lines weave over themselves. The combination of bass and drums sound like early Broken Social Scene, while the choice of high notes and thin, tinny tone on Petralli’s guitar sounds uncannily like Houston band By the End of Tonight. A few vocal sounds in the back offer a warm yet haunting oceanic feel to the end of the track. Diverse in texture and sound, this is one of the strongest radio-unfriendly tunes on the album.

Changing up the pace, “Shake Shake Shake” sacrifices some depth for the sake of a good time. While no Pulitzer prizes will be exchanged over lines such as, “Hey? Say What?/ I’m gonna do it!/ Lets go!” attention should be given to the punk sensibilities and overdriven funk-tinged bass. The guitar lines positively howl, playing call-and-response lines like a choir of Joey Ramones. “All You Really Have to Do,” the most obvious choice for a single, is most resemblant of the band’s first EP. Vocals flow out as if taken from a 1960s soul number, with an Al Green knack for sounding both lewd and spiritual. Petralli implores the listener to dance by reminding him that “All you really have to do now/ is forget you’re in the world”.

Becoming slightly more serious at the album’s close, “Sitting” draws on modern pop with a twist. It invokes late-era Beatles with its vocal layering and upbeat lyric structure, throws in a jazzy saxophone line, and eventually breaks down into a slow, psychedelic soundscape. The band leaves the listener with the single line, “I would rather be you sitting with you sitting with me.” Mixing sadness and joy, like walking home from a party as the sun breaks the horizon, it is an end that makes you want to wave goodbye while simultaneously trying to hold on to what just transpired. Perhaps the exposure the album seeks is a less selfish one, a shining of light onto the naked spirit; stripping away self-consciousness and pretense for the sake of collective release, of dancing, of embracing dorkiness and gracelessness and simply feeling good. In that sense, White Denim has mastered the art of the Exposion with pyrotechnic bravado, and one would be well advised to try to witness it.

Websites:
www.whitedenimmusic.com
Myspace