Wye Oak's debut, If Children, was a small, surprising record. Surprising because it was the sound of two kids, barely 21, playing earnest, noisy folk-rock that ignored nearly every trend in indie music; surprising because it came out of Baltimore, a city whose indie scene-- lead by Dan Deacon and bands like Ponytail-- is publicized for its spasm and flash. Surprising because of the sympathy in Jenn Wasner's lyrics. Most of the songs on the album were about age and domesticity, and most of the time it was impossible to gauge how old or domestic the band was. The character of Wasner's voice flickered between baby bunny and bitter wife, and swelling, muscular moments in the music were as confidently handled as the quiet ones.
If it's not obvious that I sincerely love the band Wye Oak (and not for sentimental reasons), let me clarify that I do-- and so it's with bit lip and heavy heart that I report on The Knot. The record doesn't feel as varied or agile as If Children did-- which is too bad only because If Children proved they could make a varied, agile record. Songs rarely pick up from a crawl. Sustained guitar chords fan out and crush whatever momentum the band gets going. The bursts of distortion that colored If Children are almost pornographically expanded.
It's also about as close to objectively gorgeous music as I can imagine. Drummer Andy Stack's arrangements are integral and imaginative: The big string-section harmonies on "I Want For Nothing" practically pry the song open; the unrepentantly rock climax of "For Prayer" washes away on the mercurial sound of slide guitars. But dirges like "Mary Is Mary" and "Slight, Flight" end up serving as measuring sticks for how much pretty is too much pretty-- for me, it's about five minutes. If not five, definitely seven and a half.
Wasner's voice has become more expressive, something I'd noticed during live performances of songs from If Children. There's probably more than one good way to sing the lines, "Do you never ask because you know I'll say/ You're the only one?"-- "but you're not the only one," but damn if they don't feel like anvils when she drops them.
I mention all their achievements because I feel like Wye Oak is still a young band, still growing, still singular. When I met Jenn and Andy last April, we talked briefly about the reviews for If Children-- one of which I wrote for this site. Jenn said that the numbers didn't matter to them at the moment, and surprisingly, it looked like she meant it. "The way I see it," she said, "we're going to be doing this for a long time." Here's hoping.
