Charming, tongue-in-cheek morbidity has always been Nick Thorburn’s strong suit. But while he used to pair it with sanguine, sunshine-coated guitars, tropical drums and elastic bass lines, Thorburn and his band now produce something far more calculated and gloomy.
Say goodbye to the white linen pants and Hanes Beefy-Ts: Islands’ sophomore release sounds a bit like what would happen if a tropical storm settled over the pristine island where Thorburn found himself in 2006’s “Return to the Sea.” That’s not to say that “Arm’s Way” isn’t good ““ it’s just different.
A smart move. If “Return to the Sea” had a tragic flaw, it would be its gimmicky obviousness: The songs sound quite tropical indeed. As a whole, they made for a phenomenal album but left the band looking like a one-trick pony. But right off the bat, Islands tells us that this one’s different. The album’s opener, “The Arm,” retains the catchy hooks and characteristic wail that colored “Return to the Sea,” but it has a fuller feel, complete with dancing violins, rolling drums and endearing bouts of three-part harmony. Some may label this song a marker of the album’s overproduction, but “Arm’s Way’s” sounds no more polished than the previous album’s “Rough Gem” and “Where There’s a Will, There’s a Whalebone” that we loved before.
Beyond the opener, the album retains its production value and fullness ““ it’s the band’s first with a firm six-man lineup ““ but opts for a heavier tone. In a way, the record suffers from a sometimes-drudging sameness, but that consistency is as much a sign of the band’s deliberate songwriting as it is of weakness.
And Thorburn’s characteristic wit shows off his maturity as a lyricist. In some sort of running joke, “Arm’s Way” finds Thorburn stabbed in the back, the heart and the face, distorting a sappy Jewel song title into something macabre, and, in “J’aime Vous Voire Quitter,” using words that somehow mean the same thing in two languages.
And it works. Pair Thorburn’s smart-ass lyrics and yelpy croon with a backing of five bold and giddy musicians, and you get tracks like “Abominable Snow,” a jammy, momentous tale of ““ what else ““ an abominable snowman.
Then comes “Creeper.” Already a fan favorite at live shows, the track features an almost annoyingly infectious guitar riff, rippling bass and a drum machine, all behind Thorburn’s whisper, “Right from the start I was stabbed in the heart / Didn’t know I wasn’t breathing, didn’t know I had been bleeding.”
A few tracks later Islands treats us to a rich marathon of a song: “We Swim.” Mid-track, the band retreats into a slow, heavy stomp that disintegrates into nothing and re-emerges as frantic guitar chirps and a haunting melody. You’d be hard-pressed to compare it to anything from “Return to the Sea,” but it’s distinctively an Islands song regardless. And a phenomenal one at that.
Equally extraordinary, however, is the album’s epic 11-minute closer. “Vertigo (If it’s a Crime)” finds the band at its finest ““ between the bonus slide guitar, vocal harmonies, expanded percussion section and all the usual instrumentation, it would have been easy to go overboard, or at least on some sort of theatrical tangent. But the band keeps its restraint, at least until Thorburn cedes the stage to the band’s calculated, pounding rampage, allowing the whole production to linger on the border between too much and not enough. Then the song melts into a swirling soundscape that sounds a lot like vertigo.
In the end, it’s pieces like this that signal the band’s transformation: Islands may have drifted away from the tropical melodies that we loved in “Return to the Sea,” but “Arm’s Way” proves that something beautiful can emerge after a dark cloud settles in.
““ Christie McCollum
E-mail McCollum at cmccollum@media.ucla.edu.