One of the Fresh & Onlys' most appealing traits is their sneaky sense of versatility; they subtly change styles with the effortlessness of putting their shoes on. And they've been tirelessly productive, too, writing more solid songs in the past three years than many bands have in an entire decade.
One of my personal favorites is "What's His Shadow Still Doing Here", from the 2009 LP Grey-Eyed Girls. The song is a relatively laconic take on 1950s guitar pop-- but by no means a straight-line take. A stuttering backbeat stays just a little out of step with overlapping guitars, as frontman Tim Cohen turns a tried-and-true lover's protest-- get over that other guy!-- into a slightly freaked-out observation: "If he disappeared into the clear/ Then tell me dear/ What's his shadow still doing here?"
On their latest EP, Secret Walls, the Fresh & Onlys further mine that sock-hopping sound, albeit with fewer alterations and a looser, more jammy approach. The production is cavernous, there are quite a few languid guitar solos, two cuts run over the four-minute mark (practically an eternity for these guys), and the closest thing to a bashed-out rave-up is the stormy closer, "Poison Wine", which sounds more like something you'd mope to than mosh out about. In a career that's been marked by slight left turns, the band has pulled its first true 180. It's a jarring change-up, and although they pull it off with remarkable ease, it might not appeal to those taken in by what Pitchfork's Marc Masters referred to as the "non-stop hit parade" of last year's excellent Play It Strange.
As a career document, Secret Walls makes more sense when taking stock of Tim Cohen's solo outings. Last year's on-the-sly Laugh Tracks and this year's more expansive LP/EP set Magic Trick / Bad Blood contained a fair amount of ramshackle charm, but they also served as a window to the starker side of his songwriting. There's a similar pallor hanging over Secret Walls; the answer to the question asked in the expansive, hollow "Do You Believe in Destiny?" involves heading to an island "where life will be so lonely," while "Wash Over Us" ends a relationship in the stroke of a single couplet: "I wouldn't want to feel that we are something we are not/ We're puppets and our bodies are painted on."
The latter song is the strongest on Secret Walls, as its last two-thirds gently unspool into softly played keyboard, strung-out guitar lines, and the sound of Cohen's voice crooning and wailing in the distance. It's a neat trick, and it's one they've played before in briefer fashion on "Arm's Advice", the closer to the band's 2008 self-titled debut LP. The F&O's aren't even close to repeating themselves at this point-- hell, based on this release, they could change it up again entirely next time (and knowing these guys, that could be as soon as tomorrow). I wouldn't mind another 180 myself, but if they stay on this bummed-out course, I won't be mad.
