Short version: These dudes have absorbed a lot of Pink Floyd, Nick Drake, and Jeff Buckley. They sound just like For Stars. If you need more than that, read on.
The pun in Decibully's band name implies both extreme volume and aggression, yet Sing Out America!, Decibully's third record, is all about undistorted shimmer and twang, foppish vocals, and geniality. It's more of a chummy handshake than the middle finger you might expect, unless you know the Milwaukee septet's claim to fame is that singer William Seidel spent some time as an auxiliary nice-guy in the Promise Ring. Plus, some folks seem excited that it includes members of Camden.
There's something very heartland about Sing Out America!; something wide-eyed and candid. Besides the usual rock equipment, Decibully doesn't scrimp on the lap steel, banjo, and Rhodes organ, and Seidel's singing is accomplished in that anonymous, androgynous way. It falls somewhere between Thom Yorke and Geoff Farina, and bears no trace of indie rock's trademarked slacker sneer. Sing Out America! is a turbo-Anglo heartstring tug-o'-war; it's unabashedly rootsy and aimed squarely at the Barnes and Noble listening station.
The record begins with "I'm Gonna Tell You", an approximate waltz that blossoms with sweetly psychedelic swirls and slabs of buzzing bass, restlessly bustling up and down the octave, then diminishing until only the percussion remains. It rolls into "Megan and Magill", a foot-stomping barn dance brimming with banjo, hand claps, martial drum rolls, and gigantic vocals. "Rid of Me at Last" is an easygoing country-rock ballad dripping with weepy bent strings and luau chords.
Sing Out America! is a solid spin, well played and competently sequenced, with a few moments of genuine interest: "Temptation", the a capella number, is engaging, despite its ponderous lyrics. But the record as a whole is too glassy and frictionless for it to have much long-term replay value; instead, it's an amiable surface for the ear to skim along.
