Song of the Week: Shearwater, "Lost Boys"

If I asked you to name a great vocalist, my guess is that you'd first think of a strong vocalist, the Whitney Houstons or Jeff Buckleys whose vocal power sounds like it could level buildings. But I've noticed that a number of my posts have led to the same conclusion that effective vocals involve finding a fit between singer and song, which for some music could work just as well with a nasal honk or with subtle understatement as it could with a traditionally "great" vocalist.

Now, I'm certainly not going to say Whitney Houston or Jeff Buckley weren't great singers- they were. What I would argue is that there's also a second type of great singer who can combine vocal skill and the musical sensitivity to find a fit with multiple different types of musical backings, and "Lost Boys" is perfectly constructed as Jonathan Meiburg's case for inclusion. The song is basically two very distinct takes on one melody- a light, airy version focused on strings and bells, followed by a harsher, strummed, drum-heavy recapitulation. Meiburg's vocals shift significantly to support both, with a rich, vibrato-laden falsetto that shifts to powerful, unadorned belting. It's instantly obvious Meiburg is a technically gifted singer; on the second verse, for example, he has the sort of elemental power in his delivery that hits you in the solar plexus. But even more to his credit is his ability to shift his voice easily to make it the best instrument in very different musical settings.

On another note, the developing theme in the songs of the week so far- you know, all two of them- is the effective use of crisp, loud drums underneath arrangements that are otherwise melodically rich and ornate, even pretty. I like pretty songs quite a lot for a bearded, emotionally reserved midwesterner, but the biggest challenge even the best of them face is fusing the melody with enough energy and momentum to keep it from sounding insubstantial. The drums here and in "Mute" are prominent and powerful enough to provide that drive, while keeping to simple beats that provide support to the melodies without overcoming it. Done right, it's a marvelously effective approach.

Song of the Week: Youth Lagoon, "Mute"

The posts here have gotten rather uniformly long and theoretical and detailed. To balance things out a little, I'm also going to start doing weekly short posts focusing on a single song. First up: Youth Lagoon's new single "Mute," from their just-released and enjoyably titled album, "Wondrous Bughouse."

Two things will probably be clear to you by about two minutes in (I just verified by testing on my wife): 1) the song pretty easily meets my criteria (and anyone else's) for sounding "unique" and different and 2) not necessarily in a good way, since it's mostly due to the screechy, harsh feedback that takes over at 1:05 and recedes in and out for the rest of the song.

I've emphasized before that adding "unique" elements isn't good enough if they don't seem to fit in the musical mix. It sure sounds at first like the feedback doesn't here, given how dissonant it sounds over what's otherwise a highly melodic song. But after several listens, I've come to think that it is the good kind of unique; there's an identifiable, and very interesting, musical idea behind the feedback.

The point comes through best during the guitar solo that starts at 2:57. Taken note for note, the solo itself is anthemic enough to plausibly be one some mulleted '80s rock guitarist could be playing at the front of the stage with one foot perched on an amplifier. And there's a certain set of connotations that comes along with that image- of a high-volume, beat-heavy hard rock arrangement smoothly sculpted to emphasize power, perhaps presented with ripped jeans and stage fireworks- that the feedback acts to twist and subvert. It's taking something associated with familiar notions of masculinity and (musical) force and turning it into something melancholy and crumbling in a way I haven't quite heard before.

My wife suggests that using more traditional (and harmonic) chimes or bells would make the whole thing sound better. She's right, but under a different conception of what the song should be. That would make for something that sounds more like a familiar chamber pop anthem (a la Coldplay, perhaps), and it could probably serve as a well-written example of the form. Hell, that's even a form I like. But for an intensive listener like me who's trying to avoid the saturation principle, I find it even more rewarding to see someone attempt a largely new musical idea- and succeed.