Man, these musical families can be pretty fucked up. The Wilsons, the Jacksons, the Osmonds-- all have reached high enough levels of scandal and interest to warrant poorly-acted TV miniseries. Now, I'm not privy to the inner workings of the Oldham musical clan, but I doubt we can expect to see part one of The Oldhams on ABC any time soon. Sure, brother Will sings songs about drugs, screwed up relationships, and sodomizing everything under the sun. But those are just songs. To meet the publicity requirements necessary for a six-hour block on primetime, you need a genuinely screwed up family dynamic. And, in terms of outward appearances, the Oldhams seem a surprisingly functional unit. Brothers Will, Paul, and Ned tour together, record together, and produce each other's records. It's all very Disney, aside from the songs about cocks.
Whether or not the Oldham family are "Seventh Heaven" material, they sure have managed to turn out a bunch of kickass records over the past decade, due in no small part to the laidback, familial tone that's practically become a trademark. This, the first full-length from Ned Oldham's Anomoanon project that doesn't center around the interpretation of children's classics, is another fine record in the Oldham tradition of slightly country-inflected folk-rock. All those Oldham signatures-- shaky vocal harmonies, sloppy lead guitar, persistent mid-tempos-- are here in abundance.
"Going to the Sea" opens The Anomoanon on a pleasant, sing along-y note. Ned Oldham's voice, which will be familiar to those of you with any old Palace Brothers records, has all the quiver of Neil Young with none of the nasal whine, making it both expressive and listenable. This track, like the rest of the album's better tracks, achieves an instantly likable laid-back groove, like a porchfront family jam session with flawless, crisp production.
Sadly, the sheer goodness of "Going to the Sea" is not to be frequently matched. The next track, "Flock," sees the band indulging too greatly in their loose approach to writing and recording. Aram Stith does his best to keep the song afloat with twangy lead guitar, but when the Oldhams lose track of the song itself and slip into an aimless jam session, it's more akin to a Phish concert than authentic backwoods Appalachian folk.
Since The Anomoanon is a fairly coherent album, the primary elements separating each track come down to subtle songwriting elements. "Window (I Can't See Past The)," the record's best track, pairs a sufficiently diverse song structure with a hauntingly beautiful melody, ranking among the better tracks in the Palace catalog. Sadly, the rest of The Anomoanon has trouble finding such focus.
When all is said and done, The Anomoanon is a damned solid folk-rock record. But unlike past offerings from the Brothers Palace, it ends the minute the music stops. There's no ethereal murmur, no haunting whisper to stay with you and extend the album's reach beyond five inches of plastic. Still, it's clear that The Anomoanon isn't meant to be the kind of intense listening experience we've come to expect from these guys. Instead, it's the sound of friends and brothers loosening up, knocking a couple back, and enjoying what they do best. Not exactly miniseries material, but certainly the makings of a good record.
