I can't dance. I'll readily admit it. Pretty much my only moves involve jerking my arms robotically and twitching my head back and forth. Usually, the dance I'll do at shows is something I call the indie: basically, you stand still with your arms crossed in front of your torso, and nod with mild interest. As far as slow dancing at social events is concerned, my girlfriend and I are lucky if we make a full rotation over the course of an entire song. Needless to say, group dance fads like the electric slide and the macarena are completely beyond me.
There was a time when this was true of fewer people. Back in the 50s, just about everyone knew the twist, and before the rock 'n' roll era you had the Charleston, the foxtrot, and various other steps that most socially apt people could at least convincingly fake. From what I can gather, the boxstep is fairly similar to these other dances, in that it allows a certain amount of interpretation of a few basic moves. You and your partner essentially place your hands strategically (one on the shoulder, one in the other person's hand) and move back and forth, side to side, forming roughly a box-shape on the floor.
I guess I could see doing a dance like that to some of the music Boxstep makes. The Pittsburgh septet splits their work pretty evenly between waltzes and traditional rock feels, and usually keeps the tempos toward the middle of the metronome scale, which, by definition, should offer some prime dancing conditions for dancehall traditionalists.
"Ryan's Glacier" opens The Faces All Look On with a pretty passage showcasing Erin Hutter's light touch on the violin and lead guitarist David Wallace's country-influenced slide guitar, which proves to be one of the band's chief assets over the course of the album. Primary vocalist Eric Graf enters next with what appears to be a vague depiction of the Ice Age. "The Appalachians were the first to go," he deadpans as guest Jackie Dempsey's accordion eases its way into the arrangement. The highlight of the song comes after about four minutes, when Wallace's guitar comes to the fore for a brief solo.
David Wallace (not to be confused with David Foster Wallace) has a commanding guitar tone and an impeccable sense of phrasing that makes his playing the emotional lynchpin of Boxstep's sound. His surf-inflected sound on "Airport Arrivals" washes over the other instruments like a strong tide, pulling the other members to a frenzied coda that caps the song off brilliantly. Thankfully, the band puts him out front rather frequently, allowing his leads to guide the dynamics of most of the songs. Graf's rhythm guitar and Paul LaBrise's able piano comping usually free him up to do whatever he wants, too, and his responses to the vocal melodies are usually more interesting than the vocals themselves.
Which brings me to my main complaint about Boxstep. The music is strong and the band's own production is perfect as far as the instruments are concerned. Unfortunately, Graf has a rather unremarkable voice-- his delivery is unrelentingly flat. Second vocalist Sarah Siplak is better, but she's invariably mixed lower, and never once takes the lead. The result of this imbalance is that the harmonies come across more as two people singing at the same time than they do as actual harmonies. Also, given that Siplak doesn't play any other instruments, it might make sense to give her a more prominent role in the band.
Graf's vocal melodies are usually fairly average as well. For instance, on the excellent piano-driven waltz "Irish Elk," he just seems to be singing without any sense of melodic contour, and he fails to deliver a convincing hook. On the contrary, Wallace delivers not one, but two absolutely sterling guitar solos, long on melodic content and devoid of wanky scale running. Similarly, Hutter's brief, understated violin solo in "11:55" totally eclipses the vocal melody.
The album closes with "Second Wedding Anniversary," an eight-minute song that wanders a bit too much to have the epic impact that it seems the band intended. Still, it manages to hold your attention for its duration, which is admirable in itself. Moreover, it exemplifies the band's strengths and weaknesses as well as any other track. The strings hover near the middle of the mix, adding color and character to the sound, while the rhythm section of bassist T.R. Daddario and drummer Greg Cislon provides a solid, understated foundation for it all to rest on. The vocals don't really offer anything memorable, though, and it's up to Wallace and his guitar to draw the listener in. A surprising acoustic guitar and accordion coda caps things off nicely.
Boxstep are a good band, and The Faces All Look On is a debut that positively bursts with potential. Unfortunately, at this juncture, the moments of transcendence are offset by moments of boredom that come a little too frequently. With some work on their melodies and songcraft, Boxstep could become great. And maybe they could even make me want to dance.
