Glossy neo-psych groups have been in a bit of a slump lately. Patron saints Flaming Lips' 2006 outing, At War With the Mystics, couldn't muster up memorable melodies to match its playful production. Mercury Rev's 2005 The Secret Migration wouldn't even be mind-expanding in a Cold Stone Creamery. A new Polyphonic Spree record has been so long coming they named last year's stopgap EP Wait. Who knows, maybe what Nancy Reagan told us about acid was true.
Well, except for the hokum about it messing up your DNA. The Earlies put their zany forebears' genetic blueprints to fine use on These Were the Earlies, the 2004 debut by the half-Manchester, half-Texas quartet. Culled from five previous EPs, that album found the transcontinental group seeking a home in the frontier between two headphones, with strings, synths, woodwinds, and marching-band brass. If their debut explored the space within, the Earlies' latest, The Enemy Chorus, peers into the void of the final frontier, with a similar kitchen-sink approach and more of the krautrock sprawl that characterized early singles like "Morning Wonder".
The deaths and lies of the last couple of years must've gotten to these dudes, too. Opener and first single "No Love in Your Heart" builds from lockstep motorik groove to a swirl of meandering harmonies, chanting, strings, and clattering percussion. Panning effects overtake theatrical pianos on the subsequent "Burn the Liars", which finds lead singer Brandon Carr complaining, "Don't tell me life's OK/ I tell myself that." On title track "Enemy Chorus", an Eastern-tinged melody snakes around a minimalist drone as the protagonist crawls past enemy lines. A bright, flange-dappled bridge cuts through the gloom: "Tell me it's gonna get better."
The cover design, by Manchester-based artist Michael England, certainly suggests a futuristic enclave of joy and light amid a dark, bleak universe. With prominent horns and a Moon Safari string arrangement, "Foundation and Earth" opens the album's second side finding the Midnite Vultures sunshine funk in "day after day." The catchiest track, "When the Wind Blows", casts a sing-songy melody over stomping drums and piano, shifting into a "Hey Jude"-informed chorus. Harmonicas wheeze on "Bad Is as Bad Does", atop backwards cymbals. When they work, these ambitious arrangements plausibly act out the cover art.
At other times, the Earlies' seriousness casts a shadow over their sonic fireworks. "If the light goes out/ The world will be dark again," Carr murmurs on sappy "The Ground We Walk On", slide guitar mired in acoustic-Braffrock arpeggios. Muted pianos and a "Revolution 9" collage of astronaut audio (Jets to Brazil did this better on "Perfecting Loneliness") introduce "Little Trooper", a somber track that wouldn't be out of place as a too-pristine Dream Theater ballad.
Remember the Beta Band who, like the Earlies, launched their career with a record compiling early EPs. The Scottish quartet coolly contradicted the idea a good song is one you can rehash on "MTV Unplugged", instead focusing on the production and frills that would make a perfect track. The Earlies' take a similar approach, but at times lose their focus as the Beta Band seemed to on later albums. The best moments here are the instrumentals: sitar-driven krautrock space raga "The Breaking Point" and bassoon-heavy galactic war anthem "Gone for the Most Part". Our long national nightmare isn't quite over, but the Earlies can at least make it brighter-- and they don't need words to do it.
