On their highly enjoyable 2008 debut, Grand Archives passed a very, very narrow test: They integrated rootsy influences from both the PacNW indie and Southern country to honor the Band of Horses connection (singer Mat Brooke is an alumnus), but by leaning towards the AM gold side of the dial, they managed to avoid being redundant. Now Grand Archives aim to make a record that can be defined on its own terms. The resulting disc, Keep in Mind Frankenstein, arguably does a good job of establishing a more singular sound for the band, but I'm not so sure their confidence is applied to the right things.
Brooke's voice is nice enough, sort of like a Listerine breath strip-- oddly sweet, papery, and prone to dissolving on contact. On Grand Archives, it proved capable of delivering loopy but ingratiating melodies while exploring some of Sub Pop's more welcoming artistic avenues. Frankenstein occasionally reprises what made its predecessor successful-- "Oslo Novelist" and "Left for All the Strays" play like folky, half-speed power pop with tightly-strung acoustic chords, trebly leads, and Brooke's corkscrewing vocal lines. But as the tempos slog and the hooks soften in the service of a more uniform mood, those moments feel like brief respites of vigor amidst a record whose pacing feels awfully pokey for something that's barely over a half-hour long.
Whatever menace gets conveyed in the repetitious invocation, "Someday I will come back," from "Topsy's Revenge" is overshadowed by a weary arrangement, little more than plinking acoustic strums in a dragging tempo. "Witchy Park/Tomorrow Will (Take Care of Itself)" builds to a cyclical, beautifully melancholy refrain but takes about two minutes too many to rustle itself out of slumber, and with the exception of the aforementioned and "Dig That Crazy Grave"'s blocky percussion, most of Frankenstein just kinda sails by you. Barely-there, near-instrumentals like "Siren Echo Valley, Pt. 1" and "Willoughby" (as well as actual instrumentals like "Siren Echo Valley, Pt. 2") try to turn Brooke and Sera Cahoone's harmonies into load-bearing instruments, but they're neither strong enough harmonically nor interesting enough texturally to feel spare as opposed to merely underwritten.
Maybe we all should've just been careful about what we wished for: For all the adulation accrued by Grand Archives, I can't remember too many people being particularly high on "The Crime Window" or "Breezy No Breezy", the former sticking out as a gung-ho shoutalong, the latter for being a Calexico-ish curiosity. Lo and behold, either of those are what's missing from Frankenstein-- I'd hate to think that founding member Ron Lewis bolted for the Shins because he thought they'd be more attuned to the quirks and rawk he may have brought to the table. It's far from a bad record and fits the bill for the pace of a hungover Sunday. But while hangovers tend to be glorified somewhat as of late, it's worth noting that, most of the time, you're just listlessly waiting for them to pass.
