Album Review: Fleet Foxes "Fleet Foxes" - (9/10)

By Old Man

As is often the case with debut full-lengths that are preceded by E.P.’s – one often sounds like and extension of the other. And, thankfully, this is true with the Fleet Foxes self-titled L.P. put out on Seattle’s Sub-Pop.

As this is our second review of a Fleet Foxes release in a couple of months, I will spare you the details of the band in general and focus more on what they succeed in and what they don’t. Where the E.P. stays firmly in waters navigated by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young – their full length extends into Brian Wilson’s (Beach Boys) area code – this album, while having it’s foundation in folk-rock, is much more buttressed by the “pop” side of Americana.

My highlight of the album is “He Doesn’t Know Why, ” with it’s swirling melody and chord changes and what is a staple of both albums – heavily reverbed background vocals. Beautiful, epic, indulgent, allowing Pecknold’s vocals to soar on the refrain “There’s nothing I can do.” And they are remarkable, his vocals. It is rare that someone is able to be so over-the-top vocally and still find a place in independent music, which tends to be a home for those songwriters who are brainy but less physically gifted and outwardly showy (contrast with American Idol fare, which tends to have folks with extraordinary voices and faces, but with little to nothing to say in their music).

What is scary about this band is that Pecknold could be in American Idol and be the best singer. I predict two, maybe three albums and then he goes solo, ala Bruce Springsteen and the E Street band . “No way, you say, he looks like a hippie!” Well, remember the Boss was a scrappy Bob Dylan wannabe before the band blew up and next thing we knew we were slow dancing to “Tunnel of Love.”

I hope I’m wrong. Until then, I'll thoroughly enjoy their music.