I've heard Dave Longstreth cursed at length, and I've heard him compared to some of the lesser deities. In the Dirty Projectors frontman we have a fellow who fancies himself not so much a songwriter as a modern composer, a Yale grad with one of indie rock's most divisive voices. Early DPs records carry with them ambitions so grandiose it's no wonder they range from wildly inventive to practically unlistenable-- occasionally in the span of the same song.
Then there was 2007's Rise Above, which saw Longstreth and company misremembering the hell out of Black Flag's Damaged by slathering embellishment onto one of the most gloriously unadorned LPs ever. It wasn't exactly a gimmick, but-- and I say this as a fan of both of those records-- it wasn't all that far from one. In spite of its comparatively light tone and the band's tight clutch on melody and rhythm, it was art-damaged and, to some, impenetrable. However you sized it up, you had to admit it was intriguing, even if your interest level waned with every passing yelp. This has heretofore been the story of Dirty Projectors: a band so brainy, so good at the very particular thing they do, they can be hard to like.
Now comes Bitte Orca, the band's best, and certainly most likable, album by a mile. Bitte doesn't actually switch up the Rise Above formula that much: Intricate (if roomier) full-band arrangements abound, Longstreth largely sticks with his clear King Sunny Ade-meets-Jimmy Page guitar acrobatics, and he's still singing his strange, loping songs with that voice. But it whittles down the jarring time signatures and off-kilter arrangements and vocal bleats (er, for the most part) to create a triumphant art-pop record destined to please longtime fans and win him a whole slew of new ones. The key is that, rather surprisingly, Bitte Orca is one of the more purely enjoyable indie-rock records in an awfully long time; remarkable by any means, but even moreso considering the source. It's breezy without a hint of slightness, tuneful but with its fair share of tumult, concise and inventive and replayable and plain old fun. It is the sound of Longstreth the composer and Longstreth the pop songwriter finally settling on a few things together after years of tug-of-war between the two.
There are some triumphant standalone songs in the DPs back catalogue-- "Fucked For Life", "I Will Truck", and "Rise Above" spring to mind-- but never has Longstreth laid nine of them out in a row, as he does on Bitte Orca. From the chiming opening chords of "Cannibal Resource" to the supple swivel that closes "Fluorescent Half-Dome", there's a forward motion at play when you spin Bitte Orca all the way through, but it's an album of such a high uniform quality and such indelible range, practically any tune could be your favorite. Songs run the gamut from Zeppelin III-style swirl (sorta-title-track "Useful Chamber") to delicate balladry ("Two Doves", a dead ringer for Nico's cover of Jackson Browne's "These Days" and no less gorgeous for it) to R&B bob-and-weave ("Stillness Is the Move", which owes a great debt to the dearly departed Aaliyah-Timbaland braintrust) to adult-contemporary pop (no shots, "No Intention"). Apart from the ultimately transitional whoosh of the brief "The Bride", the run from "Cannibal Resource" to "No Intention" is as solid and variegated a display of songwriting acumen and instrumental virtuosity as any you'll hear this year. But it sure doesn't feel as heavy as that sentence might have you believe.
I don't dare pick one highlight-- hell, my favorites keep changing-- but I'll point to "Useful Chamber" as the best encapsulation of what Bitte Orca does so well. A woozy synth line underpins one of Longstreth's gentlest vocal performances to date, a melody line I find myself singing in all sorts of inopportune places. Roughly halfway through, the beat breaks, Longstreth half-raps a little pre-chorus pep talk, and the song explodes in sound and vision. I don't quite understand what Longstreth is going for with the song's whale-plea mantra, but when it sounds like this-- so gigantic, so effortless, so unbelievably catchy-- I could really give a fuck. It's pure bliss, tension that results in glorious release. And while the song-- like the album it features on-- sacrifices precious little of the art-pop leanings of Longstreth's past work, he's traded obfuscation for overtness on nearly all levels, channeled his frenetic energy into paring down the songwriting as opposed to putting it all into the performances, and the results positively sing.
I'm only slightly less enamored of Bitte Orca's final twofer than I am with what precedes it, though either would be a clear highlight on any of the other DPs albums. "Remade Horizon" starts a bit slow and Longstreth's voice seems a tad strained on the verse melody; despite an ebullient shoutalong chorus, it seems more an excuse for the impressive feat of vocal pummelhorsery from Amber Coffman and Angel Deradoorian in its second half than it does a tune's tune like the seven that come before it. It's the first time on Bitte Orca Longstreth allows chops to stand out in front of the song, and while it's neat to hear them pull it off (and is an absolute marvel in a live setting), it feels showy in a way Bitte Orca otherwise avoids in favor of direct hits. The emphasis on Coffman and Deradoorian's vocals throughout is one of the best things about the record; "Horizon" just happens to be the one moment they seem overused-- a problem of arrangement, really-- and it suffers a bit for it.
"Fluorescent Half Dome" has the opposite problem; it's a bit too simplistic getting going and doesn't quite earn its bizarre chorus. While, like most songs here, it picks up when Coffman and Deradoorian start in with their vocals, it's not quite the closer a record like this deserves. But even focusing on relative difficulty among tracks on the record seems odd: Jaw-dropping virtuosity was the best thing the DPs had going for them prior to Bitte Orca. Here, it stands behind so many other newly apparent strengths-- a testament to the leaps and bounds Longstreth has made as a songsmith and Dirty Projectors have made as a band.
