Say what you will about Yeasayer, but up to this point in their career, their music hasn’t been easily categorized as "unremarkable". It’s invited opinions-- loud ones-- from supporters and detractors alike. Since their tracks are based on similar qualities-- spirited, can-do lyrics, sweeping harmonies, and deliriously stacked arrangements-- there's been almost no middle ground separating their excellent run of singles ("2080", "Tightrope", "Madder Red", "O.N.E.") from their catastrophic face-plants ("Mondegreen", "Rome"). Now that's changed. Yeasayer's third album, Fragrant World, is their first and only consistent LP. It not only proves that Yeasayer can make an unremarkable song, but that they can make 11 of them in a row.
Fragrant World marks another transition for a band whose sound appears to be in constant flux, and initially, it can make you miss the "old" Yeasayer. There's a significant change here. While *All Hour Cymbals *and Odd Blood sounded nothing like each other, they reflected Yeasayer's surroundings at the time, the maximalist grab-from-anywhere approach that defined ambitious East Coast indie rock. They were in the lineage of TV on the Radio and Animal Collective when those bands they were still psychedelic and tribal, and they brought to mind the track-stuffing, techno-hippie approach of MGMT or Gang Gang Dance in a pop mood. Fragrant World, on the other hand, is a decidedly minimalist affair. Its album cover might suggest otherwise, but Yeasayer have not gone dubstep or witch house, although the occasional undulating bass wobble and ticking hi-hat suggest they're going for something a little more trunk-rattling this time around. On the whole, the stylistic range is far narrower, and the geographic one much wider, as Fragrant World sounds like it's trying to jockey alongside miniaturists such as Grimes, Purity Ring, or the xx-- acts that make music that sounds simultaneously tiny and fragile enough for iPod shuffles and scalable to subwoofers.
None of which plays to Yeasayer's strengths. The leaner sound puts the focus squarely on their lyrics, and their overall disposition hasn't changed along with their sonics; Fragrant World can feel painfully self-aware. A typically curious juxtaposition occurs over the phased chords of "Blue Paper", when Anand Wilder sighs, "She used to walk on concrete/ Now the sidewalk isn't green enough for her/ Says she misses Mother Earth." Later on the squelching "Devil and the Deed", he mocks, "You could never handle if she was into magic/ You could never stand it/ She couldn't speak your language." The robotic bump 'n' grind of "Longevity" is a new look for Yeasayer, but the only real friction is that of a square peg plugging into a round hole: "My girl says that all the rain promises is to give life to the seeds/ Live in the moment/ Never count on longevity," sings Chris Keating. It's the sort of thing people say with alarming frequency in Yeasayer songs and absolutely nowhere else.
Songs here often take an advisory tone, and the lack of grounding becomes more pronounced whenever Yeasayer get topical. The overkill of EQ filters makes it nearly impossible to identify the folk hero or the shtick on "Folk Hero Shtick", with "The emperor's standing naked/ How much longer can he fake it?" failing to serve as any sort of guidance. Likewise, witness "Reagan's Skeleton" imagining right-wing oppression as a "Thriller"-like phantasmagoria.
Then again, did the lyrics of "2080" or "Ambling Alp" get in the way? With those songs, Yeasayer managed to overwhelm the listener with an undeniable melody and sheer psychedelic swooning. Though their previously hyper-colored records were also self-produced, Fragrant World is curiously thin. It goes beyond the arrangements. While the hooks of "No Bones" and "Devil and the Deed" slowly grow on you, each hits a point around the three-minute mark where you might expect a pivot, a bridge, or some new texture. Instead, they just end meekly. This quality is most noticeable on lead single "Henrietta", which works a melodic bassline, and the sort of elastic groove that powered Odd Blood's best tracks. Yet after only two minutes, it cuts out and spends more than half of its time playing catch up with the first Neon Indian album.
Credit where it's due-- Yeasayer are ambitious enough to do something other than write "2080" sequels, even though they have every incentive to do just that. But unlike the erratic, occasionally captivating, and always bold Odd Blood, Fragrant World rests in a tentative middle ground.
