What would CocoRosie have to do at this point for you to change your mind about them? One of the world's biggest cult acts remains one of its most divisive. Whether it's their absurd cover art, affected vocals, one-time affiliations with too-ironic parties, or their many famous friends, something about CocoRosie causes grudges to be held. To be honest, I wish I could let that baggage get me worked up about Grey Oceans-- music is most fun when it inspires strong feelings. Instead, CocoRosie's least abrasive record to date merely disappoints softly.
From the moment you enter Grey Oceans, CocoRosie make clear that you're on their time and in their universe. But while song titles like "R.I.P. Burn Face" and "Fairy Paradise" suggest they still have a sense of humor about what they're bringing to the party, the Casady sisters seem more grounded here. This record sands off some of their pricklier affectations-- the half-raps and genre exercises are gone, and so is most of their provocative lyricism.
Some highlights: Opener "Trinity's Crying" patiently works through warped synth and harp to create a sort of Matrix-y new age tenor. There's a nice contrast between the vaudeville hook of "Hopscotch" and its jungle-esque rhythm, and once "Lemonade" stops dragging ass, it builds to a satisfying horn section. But in spite of these sounds, too much of Grey Oceans is as murky and impenetrable as its title. Eventually, it becomes bogged down in the same kind of downtempo, piano-and-effects balladry as all those old Poe and Dot Allison CDs littering discount used bins.
But when you get down to brass tacks, it's the vocals (particularly Bianca's) that will probably end up being the dealbreaker as long as CocoRosie make records. It's not that her voice is too alien-- Björk channeling Billie Holiday is pretty much the ballpark-- but its unorthodoxy never feels like it's in the service of expressiveness. Instead, the affectations become both the means and the end, and whatever beauty could be wrangled from the plodding piano pieces or resonance you might get out of lyrics like, "I'm afraid of sharks but not of the dark," are ruined by the fact that they sound like they're curdling in her mouth.
I understand why CocoRosie have engendered the admiration of their peers: Even with their success, they're still operating on the fringe, and while Grey Oceans is less caustic than their other work, it still has that lay-it-all-on-the-line quality that's worked for Antony Hegarty, Devendra Banhart, and Joanna Newsom. The difference is that the album never feels like anything's at stake, whereas past records embraced experimentation at any cost. If anything, the Casadys invert the purpose of folk music by coming at it from a place of indulgence rather than sharing. Then again, the majority of CocoRosie's praise stems from them "being themselves," so it's no surprise that even at their most user-friendly, they don't sound like an act that has much use for an audience.
