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The Moon is the first release from the Dallas-based foursome Elkhart, although the individuals have been bouncing around the Dallas music scene for some time. On the band’s website, Travis Hopper, Elkhart’s singer and songwriter, revealed to fans the creative space that The Moon was inspired in “something low key…lush…kind of mellow…something that sounds good driving late at night or through the country, something that sounds better as it gets colder outside…”
So it seems appropriate that The Moon has the restrained, country soft-rock feel that it does. Its color is sparse, and the textures shimmer akin to a star flickering in the distance. Exemplary is the opening track, “Change Your Mind,” where Hopper and Co. seem to be at an impassable lull, but one where some introspection takes place. Hopper meekly utters, “Do my best to get the words right if it’s good enough to change your mind” over a twangy wash of guitars. Early on in The Moon, Elkhart comes across as genuinely laid back and confident at such a lackadaisical pace. They retain their composure throughout the 9-song debut, while, by the end of the album, it is the listener who starts to get antsy.
This same countrified, low-key pedantry is produced on several other songs and at times unfortunately become somewhat indiscernible from each other. Songs like “Unraveled”, “Hometown”, and “Tune Out” float in and out of the attention of the listener with the fundamental glassy guitars and sedated vocals that make up the arrangements on throughout the album.
Despite the country wash that constitutes many of the tracks on The Moon, Elkhart seems to come alive near the middle of their album, producing their more relevant and rewarding work. The third track, “My Brother,” clocks in just under six minutes and drives like a “little engine that could” while the subtlety of the guitars and organs narrowly escapes the homogeny that swallows up the bulk of the album - safe for now. The same goes for “Little Bear” where Elkhart, in their own way, seem to be letting themselves go a little, though they don’t go very far. Where there is usually moderation, the band counters with an up-tempo number that is, dare I say, rambunctious by album standards. By far, the best cut on this album is the song “Houston”. It opens with simple drums doing no more than keeping time, guitars condensing and then fading away on the peripherals. Over that, Hopper sings with youthful abandon, “It was never the same when they tore down where it all began. Will I ever see you again in Houston?” This is a song where the simplicity and the stripped-down nature of The Moon benefits by allowing room for the vocals and the guitars to coalesce for a nice, glossy finish.
Elkhart deserves credit for following through on making a debut for the reasons above (as stated by Hopper), and although the listener wants so bad to love The Moon, in the end there just isn’t enough there to love. It is an attempt at dignified restraint, which is perhaps the only way to convey the things that Elkhart wanted to in The Moon. This album is about a lost innocence, the act of remembering, and a lot of driving, all scored to the pastoral night, and it succeeds in accomplishing just that but not much more. There is a difference between artistic restraint to achieve a desired effect, and the stifling of what might have otherwise been a very solid album. It is at that distinction that Elkhart draws a dangerously thin line.
Websites:
www.elkhartband.com
Myspace
