Maybe you can chalk it up to their unique (awkward) name, but I'm still surprised Throw Me the Statue didn't earn more attention on the strength of their debut LP, Moonbeams. There was just something about it that sounded as though you'd end up hearing it everywhere, but unless I'm shopping in the wrong stores or not earning the right credits from my soft drink purchases or something, I certainly wouldn't consider myself inundated by Throw Me the Statue lately. Reitherman's seemingly easy way around a riff, matched with his ability to casually dart out easily appealing tunes both peppy and not so much-- the same thing that earned the Shins and Death Cab radio play-- and the band's plinky technicolor-twee arrangements really worked together, it did really seem destined for a thousand iPods Moonbeams was not only an assured, promising (if overlong) record, but it sported a couple-three songs as earwormy as anything you see pushing earbuds lately. Still, the closest Throw Me the Statue came to breaking out was their I-sooo-called-it Rhapsody ad, but I bet even members of TMTS didn't quite catch whose song that was.
Whatever's in store, it's probably not coming on the back of the disappointing Purpleface EP. At four songs-- one of 'em a redo of Moonbeams' "Written in Heart Signs, Faintly"-- and roughly 16 minutes, Purpleface doesn't nearly go far enough in showcasing Reitherman's budding melodic talent, offering instead a bit more of the bummed-out balladry that bogged down the last third of Moonbeams. When it comes down to it, it's a proximity issue: slowish jam, slow jam, slow jam, slowish jam, and a few too many clunkers in a row for something this slight.
Swarming guitars, windowpane-splatter drums, and what sounds to be a mini-megaphone can't save opener "That's How You Win" from its own slightness, but the other three tracks here are as tender and troubled-sounding as any of the sleepier moments from Moonbeams. The update of "Heart Signs" is fairly unnecessary; somebody thought to replace the spare acoustic plucking of the original with a heavy glaze of orchestration, and the song lives on to tug at another set of heartstrings. "Honeybee" is the prize, a buzzy slow-burner with a gauzy, gorgeous instrumental interlude and raspy Reitherman's best vocal performance on wax since Moonbeams' title track. There's a deliberateness to "Honeybee" that's lacking in the two other new Purpleface numbers, and it's telling that it's the least adorned track here: There's no need to dress up an already affecting tune. Clattering closer "Ship" is awfully pleasant, mercifully picking up the rhythm just a smidge in its midsection. Throughout, though, the performances feel weirdly dispassionate, as if Reitherman and company were treating this like a placeholder EP.
And so it is, I suppose. But there's certainly a least a few something elses holding TMTS back a little bit. I think Reitherman's way with the pen is second only to his way around sculpture; he's done some good lyrics in the past, but he certainly didn't dogear anything particularly interesting for Purpleface. Reitherman's got a reasonably nonchalant singing voice, particularly on the slower ones here it seems, and that, coupled with his lyrics, sometimes means the song never quite sticks. The first verse of "Written in Heart Signs, Faintly" is actually a fairly nice piece of writing, but the second reminds me a lot of Vanessa Carlton, and not the Vancessa Carlton song I like. "Honeybee" seems to call for a simple, direct lyric, and it delivers, even when Reitherman's voice seems slightly obscured by the music and his own casualness. "That's How You Win" is just overwhelmed with nonsensey phrases spit out without any discernible thread behind 'em, which ends up this weird talky go-nowhere electronic bummer like one of the lesser numbers on R.E.M.'s Up or something. The other songs really are better than that one, but even still, "Ship" still doesn't hang in your brain much longer than Reitherman takes to say it. Some of those Moonbeams lyrics were awfully good-- the sad romantic travelogue "Young Sensualists" chief among 'em-- but a lot of them, too, took this impressionistic tack sometimes to their detriment. The big difference, of course, is that they were attached to better tunes.
