Following on from a limited-edition debut EP,
Fire on Fire's often excellent first full-length demonstrates what might be the contradictory heart of the return to the roots that has been valorized in any number of musical corners over the opening years of the 21st century -- namely, what roots, and in what context? It isn't that the quintet, partially consisting of veterans from the engagingly erratic art/jam ensemble Cerberus Shoal, doesn't know where it's coming from -- the spirit of old American traditional song forms, not to mention older recording techniques and preferences, dominates
The Orchard with songs like "Assanine Race," and having the spare, spindly, and trebly feeling of famed singles and field recordings from the 1920s and 1930s collected and obsessed over from then to now. But whether it's the overwhelming burden of context the band labors in at present -- bands inspired by similar sources are practically a dime a dozen -- or a lingering sense that there's a withdrawal almost tinged with fear of the present; sometimes there's something perversely hard to love about an album created with love. One can hear that love easily in songs like "Toknight" with its chessboard metaphors and wry description of Jesus as a favorite scapegoat, while the concluding tracks "Tsunami" and "Haystack" are, perhaps perversely, the strongest, with the latter finding a fusion between odd sonic touches, understated drone, and fragile vocals that sound far more unearthly than anything before them. Still, it's worth considering that the band's Young God labelmates
Akron/Family have the same sense of deep-rooted singalong and traditions but encompass a mélange of technological and other influences to create something living more than a museum piece, which
The Orchard perhaps too inevitably suggests at points. There may be no easy resolution to such questions, though, in a time as relentlessly sonically restless as ours. ~ Ned Raggett