Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Flowers Forever -- The Next Big Thing?


I saw these guys a few weeks ago when they opened for Daniel Johnston in Omaha, NE. Frankly, I wasn't that impressed. They had a bass player who was obviously copying his every move off of the Who's John Entwhistle and their lead singer kept attempting making love to his guitar. He hopped around the stage like a kid too happy to be on exctacy and basically annoyed me. There were a few moments though where I took notice. One song, "Jealous Motherfucker" (these guys are semi-big on profanity) features a catchy chorus that goes "Are you high? Nooo. Are you loooooow?" My friend Tony aptly pointed out that it was the kind of thing I'd pick out at karaoke. Another strong point of their set was a tremendous revisioning of "Strange Fruit," the Lewis Allen-penned Billie Holiday classic. Truly amazing.

Still, I wasn't that impressed, but my friend Will was. He bought their album and begged to listen to it on the drive home. When we finally put it on, it was like the blinders were lifted. This band was amazing in the studio. They were like a garage raga version of the Arcade Fire. Unique and strangely powerful. Unfortunately, I thought I'd never get a chance to own their album. The next day I went by the local indie record store (Sister of Sound -- dig it!) and told the younger sister about the album. Went I went back today to investigate an order I'd made, they had it among the new releases with a note about them having opened for Daniel Johnston. I gushed with excitement and bought it immediately.

Listening to it anew, it still sounds as good as I had hoped it would. I got four cds today, and against heavy competition (Bob Dylan's Artist's Choice for Starbucks and Good For What Ails You: Music of the Medicine Shows, 1926-1937), I listened to this one first. The liner notes are among the most elaborate I've seen -- a fold out, diamond-shaped mosaic of drug-addled dementia. The lyrics are included, but its the weirdness of the photos that brands the brain with searing sensation.


Don't get me wrong; some of their stuff is the overblown suckage one might expect from arthouse rock. "Golden Shackles" is an overly didactic political song that ends with the chant "Some change better come! We ain't fuckin' around no more!" Sorry to tell you this, but what do you think you're gonna do if change doesn't come? It's not like you are Neil Young, and its not like he can do anything but make another album. Sorry, but your either fucking around or your whining; which do you prefer?

Still, despite the wining, I suggest anyone who finds this album to pick it up. It is a true gem to hear.

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