Even if you don't know Grant Olsen by name, there's a good chance you've heard his voice. In 2007, Olsen and fellow Seattle resident Sonya Wescott released In Camera as Arthur & Yu. The pair took cues from a narrow set of influences-- the Velvet Underground's drowsy pop-leaning moments, the sunglasses-cool work of Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra-- but the results felt full and well executed. Four years later, Arthur & Yu seem to be on a hiatus, and Olsen's got a new gig: the hearty folk-pop project Gold Leaves, who, like A&Y before it, is releasing its debut LP, The Ornament, on the increasingly reliable Sub Pop offshoot Hardly Art.
The label affiliation provides the opportunity for a family affair, as Papercuts frontman Jason Quever lent a hand with production and instrumental flourishes. As a result, the record carries shades of Quever's own distant, faded brand of indie pop-- only, Olsen's compositions sound rounder and warmer than anything Papercuts have ever released. The fact that the album opens with the immense, elliptical "The Silver Lining" only hints at the full-bellied heat contained on the rest of the record. In Camera was a charming effort, but also a relatively small-sounding one; The Ornament is the exact opposite, with melodies that stretch across highways and drums so hollow you could live within them.
The Ornament's expansiveness owes a fair bit to Olsen's voice, which sounds like it's been given an emotional B12 shot. His lyrics are prettily-- albeit somewhat emptily-- evocative, richly textured, and his tonal pronunciation (the "PO-lice cars" of "Hanging Window") adds temporal sentimentality to his words. Any narcotized simplicity Olsen previously possessed as a vocalist is basically over and done: Honestly, he may have one of the most flat-out pretty voices in contemporary indie rock.
Granted, the field for strong vocals in today's indie isn't exactly a crowded one, although the above descriptions will likely remind many of another certain Sub Pop-signed bearded belter (hint: rhymes with "Bobbin Plecknold"). Like Fleet Foxes, Gold Leaves are doing nothing new-- this sound is comfortably familiar, like a rocking chair or stretch of well-trodden road. It's remarkable how well Olsen wears this new sound, though, to the point that the few cuts that reach back to his days in Arthur & Yu ("Honeymoon", "The Companion") can't help but feel slight by comparison. But there's a twist, as the swaying throb of "Honeymoon" yields a single sentiment besting the emotional distance of Olsen's previous work, repeated like a mantra: "Come back to me." Take it how you will-- me, I'm hoping it means we won't have to wait so long to hear from him again.
