Rock Plaza Central
…at the moment of our most needing
Rating: 3.0/5.0
Label: Paper Bag Records
Let it be known that Rock Plaza Central’s sole output between their breakthrough Are We Not Horses? and Paper Bag Records debut …at the moment of our most needing, was a curiously entertaining cover of Justin Timberlake’s “SexyBack.” That one-off found the band reveling in the contradictions between their folk roots and Timberlake’s floor-filling pop appeal, reigning in the club anthem with an understated beauty that offset the song’s lurid subject matter. In certain respects, the band’s latest release is an unfortunate recoiling from the confidence of such a whimsical meander. The band sacrifices the idiosyncratic blend of tradition and originality that made Horses a folk gem and “SexyBack” a joy, settling instead for a solid execution of that leaves one underwhelmed.
As a collective of Toronto musicians, Rock Plaza Central’s current five-member roster centers on the vision of songwriter and twice-published novelist Chris Eaton. His anguished warble, often described as a hybrid of folk-rock demigods Jeff Mangum and Will Oldham, gives each anachronistic lyric a penetrating sincerity capable of plucking even the rustiest heartstring. Such vocals backed by a rich array of string and brass generate compositions that overload the ear with rural comfort. At the all-you-can-eat buffet of independent music, Rock Plaza Central is the savory chicken pot pie, the heaping side of mashed potatoes, the hardy dinner roll.
Little fanfare marked the self-release of Are We Not Horses? in 2006, but several months later it emerged from the depths of the promo bin as a year-end favorite in 2007. The album showcased the dexterity of the band’s literate Americana as they tackled a concept that some may consider quirky: robot horses under the impression that they’re real. Seriously. Eaton’s steady hand and shaky voice led the charge of mechanical ponies through the existential dilemmas inherent to such a precarious existence. Each delicate verse was stamped into memory with flourishing strings and punctuating horns. On …at the moment, Eaton’s unique penchant for affective lyricism returns with serious contemplation, introspection and all of the other “tions” to which a respectable songwriter aspires, but in far smaller doses. More than 10 minutes, nearly a quarter of the album’s runtime, pass before any verse rivaling the depth of Horses is revealed. Enthusiastic choruses and vocal harmonies come in droves, but the record is far more concerned with instrumentation than prose.
Like Horses the album hinges on a unifying concept, albeit far more subtly. The narrative, inspired by William Faulkner’s Light in August, jumps between vague characters, each with a perspective and particular situation from which they approach the album’s focal point: vulnerability. A young man prays for inner strength in the face of unnamed foes, a young woman surrenders her body to a one-night stand, a wife blinded by love hopelessly suffers her domestic despair. Cheerful, no?
Despite the sorrowful circumstances that dominate the bulk of the album, …at the moment actually begins and ends rather hopefully. Opener “Oh I Can” builds slowly from a percussive rhythm that tumbles through the speakers and coalesces into a backbone that anchors rising strings and an optimistic vocal harmony that echoes its title. The track is a strong statement made in the face of a tumultuous theme, a hopeful starting point that keeps the listener’s head above the troubled waters that follow. Likewise, closer “The Hot Blind Earth” delivers a bright treatment of a topic maligned throughout the album; “Your love’s a light/ That makes me fight,” Eaton croons as violinist Fiona Stewart bursts into a riff recalling Zeppelin’s “Kashmir”.
The middle tracks cast a harsh glare on love and lust. “(Don’t You Believe the Words of) Handsome Men” marks a father’s warning against the wily charms of young suitors. Perhaps the same suitor is referenced in “The World is Good Enough,” a tragic tale that speaks in brutal honesty to the animalistic nature of human sexual pursuit, likening seduction to instinctual predation. The stand-out “We Are All Full of Light (That Blinds Us at the Moment of our Most Needing)” features the album’s most resonant songwriting. Blake Howard’s galloping percussion underpins a sunny banjo melody while Eaton’s poignant verse illustrates the cruel irony of romantic attachment, its hopeful inspiration to the point of willful blindness.
Interestingly, this is the same dynamic that …at the moment of our most needing develops with the listener. The comfort of Eaton’s voice and capable band reel you in past the imperfections and missed opportunities to add lyrical depth to the varied take on vulnerability. This, of course, is largely to the band’s credit. Rock Plaza Central has produced a pleasant album worthy of more than a passing ear. But when tastes of touching poetry fade into the album-filling instrumental tracks, it’s difficult to keep the disappointment at bay. The band hasn’t hit the nail on the head here, but stay tuned.
by Brady Baker
