Fol Chen
Part 1: John Shade, Your Fortune’s Made
Rating: 2.5
Label: Asthmatic Kitty Records
buy it at insound!
The first decade of the 2000s might wind up being one of the few in contemporary history that failed to create any defining musical movements or genres. The 1990s alone had grunge and gangsta rap vying for the spotlight, the 1980s could be defined by anything from indie and college rock to synth pop to hip-hop, and the 1970s gave us punk, disco, prog, and pretty much every other genre we’ve mined in the past 10 years. Are we truly a generation so ADHD-addled that the best we can come up with are various reworkings of movements that had their heydays decades ago?
It may be unfair to hoist this anti-generational angst on a group like Fol Chen, but at this point it’s fair to ask how many genre-hopping indie bands we need. When the back-up singers demand that I “listen to this song/ listen to this song” I try to, but it’s just that this song sounds identical to the Hot Chip track I grew tired of when I realized I was just listening to a watered down and falsely aged version of a Human League B-side. With all the historic events, world-altering changes and globe-shaking societal upheavals of recent years, it’s difficult if not impossible to get excited about a group that is merely satisfactory in its theft of previously executed ideas.
John Shade, Your Fortune’s Made does manage to get off to an interesting start; on “The Believers” a hospital machine beat kicks things off before some voices and horns straight off the Danielson Famile Ship intercede, declaring, “By God we’re all on bended knees/ But we don’t know what it means.” Sure, it’s a straight up rip-off of the best moments of Subtle’s catalog, but at least that’s a catalog hardly anyone is listening to let alone “borrowing” from. But when the next track, “No Wedding Cake,” rolls around, Fol Chen reveal that they’ve stolen more than just beats and melodies from Subtle; instead, they’re also aping their adherence to an overarching narrative in their music.
Unlike Subtle, Fol Chen’s narrative structure is less than, well, subtle; before long the genres the album slides between start to feel as though they were chosen first, with the narrative then forced on top. “The Idiot” sounds like a stray TV On the Radio rhythm reimagined by Justin Timberlake’s little known younger brother. It doesn’t help when the verses are filled with lines like, “Everyone here thinks I’m a big joke/ But how can that be true/ When I’m in love with you?,” which somehow manages to be both blunt as a murder weapon and annoyingly obtuse. Equally annoying is apparent single “Cable T.V.,” which wastes a vocal appearance from Liars’ Angus Andrews by burying it in the mix; vocalist Melissa Thone comes off like a sorority girl singing The Blow in a low-rent karaoke bar.
Set free from the confines of their forced narrative, it’s possible that Fol Chen could make for an interesting singles band in spite of this weak debut album. In particular, the album’s darker moments edge towards the leaps of imagination the group seem to have been aiming for all along. “Red Skies Over Garden City (The Ballad of Donna Donna)” pits a militant marching band against exotic samples and an especially angelic melody complete with backing coos. “Winter, That’s All” keeps the marching beat but drops the samples and vocal hooks in favor of horns and keyboards reminiscent of the soundtrack to Sonic the Hedgehog 2.
Unfortunately, these tracks are little more than the high point before a steep decline, ultimately ending in a closing track that is wholly unnecessary and completely out of place. If Fol Chen could rein in their excesses – including a mess of a bio included with the album that reads like a seventh grader emulating Kafka – and focus on developing the more innovative moments of John Shade, they could become an ensemble that’s ahead of musical trends rather than an imitation of one. Until that happens, Fol Chen will just another also-ran band, always looking backward and never advancing.
by Morgan Davis
