When I hear the name Steve Albini, I tend to think of a certain sound. Namely raw, primal rock. Rapeman, Big Black, Shellac, Nirvana's In Utero, the Pixies-- the man's name is practically synonymous with music that takes no prisoners. His dry, treble-heavy sound has graced literally hundreds of albums over the past decade-and-a-half, and his style has become so developed that a lot of people can listen to an album and tell that he recorded it.
Considering all this, you can imagine how shocked I was to open the liner notes of the Frames' fourth album and see his name in there. For the most part, For the Birds is just about the antithesis of what we've come to expect from Albini: gentle, hushed folk-inspired rock that only occasionally rises to a shout. As it turns out, Albini only helped record a few songs for the Irish quintet, and though it's never specified which ones, it's easy to guess. The rest of the album was produced by the band with the guiding hand of dEUS's Craig Ward, who seems nearly as unlikely a candidate.
For the Birds opens with a plaintive, soothing instrumental aptly titled "In the Deep Shade." Guitar harmonics, brushed drums, violin and a smattering of piano eddy about calmly, sometimes moving forward rhythmically for a bar or two, but never truly settling into a prolonged groove of any kind. It's little short of the perfect set-up for an album that abounds in pleasantly atmospheric, but rarely uninteresting, music, broken by the occasional foray into noise-drenched slow rock.
"Lay Me Down" follows, riding a constant, choppy beat and lightly picked acoustic guitars. Glen Hansard's vocal melody is syncopated in such a way that it sounds at first like he's singing out of time. Once you get used to his phrasing, though, the melody takes hold easily, contrasted by slow, droning violin interjections between verses. Hansard's understated delivery also works nicely for "What Happens When the Heart Just Stops," the quiet ballad that follows. Subtle electronics weave their way through the mix, gradually becoming denser as the song swells to its dramatic climax, complete with a fine, Left Banke-ish horn section.
Though most of the album keeps the tempo held way back, a few songs manage to inject a faster beat, and nearly always to positive effect. Most notable is "Fighting on the Stairs," which is the most obvious candidate for a single. Programmed drums lay down an almost danceable groove for an otherwise mostly acoustic song, making for a nice blend of textures. Banjo and vibes fill in the corners of the song, leaving room for some sort of oscillating synthesizer and closely harmonized vocals.
Three of these songs bear the obvious mark of Albini, each in the form of harshly noisy guitar passages. The band handles noise best on "Headlong" by balancing it with resolutely melodic violin and lead guitar parts, which isn't to speak of the way they easily morph the gentle chorus refrain into an aching plea for help in the raging bridge. The noisy passage that closes "Santa Maria," however, is fairly shapeless, and actually detracts from an otherwise passable song.
The guitars are similarly molten on "Early Bird," though the vocal melody greatly overpowers them in the mix. The song quiets in the middle to allow the sinewy violin line to come to the fore, but is quickly swallowed again by restrained feedback and gritty guitar work. Its duration is cut short by an uncharacteristic moment of tape manipulation, which segues surprisingly well into "Friends and Foe," which is perhaps the most subdued song here. Subtle tremolo picking in the background, understated splashes from a keyboard and soft strumming are all Hansard has for accompaniment during the ultra-quiet verses. A surprisingly Dirty Three-like violin and guitar section actually brightens the song considerably in the middle.
"Disappointed" takes the title of most lo-fi song on the album, as Hansard sounds like he's phoning in his performance from another town. That's not to say his delivery isn't as passionate as usual, though, and his lyrics seem to sum up the general feel of the whole album with their refrain of "I'm not mad/ I'm just disappointed." Comparatively, closer "Mighty Sword" is upbeat at its tempo of roughly 60 beats per minute. The song picks up for its coda, breaking into a steady waltz beneath cleanly strummed guitars and theremin.
The Frames have created a unique and enjoyable album with For the Birds, one that leans decidedly away from the pop spectrum, but never sacrifices accessibility. Perhaps the album's single greatest flaw is that the band have chosen to concentrate almost too much on the slow and sparse, but they do it well enough that it's hard to complain too much. When all's said and done, For the Birds is really for just about anyone.
