Living on the New Hampshire seacoast, I can relate to the state of mind that might drive one to bossa nova music. I was on the beach this weekend on a sunny day, and the air was still freezing. The local clam shack and ice cream stand had opened but the people in line were wearing windbreakers; this year's scoop girls are only just starting to build the biceps that they'll take to school next fall.
It doesn't get hot enough in Portland, Oregon for music like this, and maybe that's why Chad Crouch and Blanket Music recorded Move in the South Pacific, on balmy Island 734-001 of the Bikini Atoll. They're joined by the beautiful voices of Esperanza Spalding (of Noise for Pretend) and Corrina Repp, who sound as smooth as ice against a hot torso. "Shut up and sway your hips," they implore, and the tropical songs and warm recording couldn't sound more like an afternoon at a bar by the beach. They even put a cocktail umbrella in the spine of the disc, to illustrate what you're missing.
Crouch says this is party music, and it is, though it's also good hangover music: soothing and free of shrill noise. The hooks are so subtle and laid-back that it can take a few listens to appreciate Crouch's catchy songwriting-- most notably on "K - A - R - A [breathless] O - K [keep it coming] EEEeeeeeeeee," where his droopy-dog vocals and clever lyrics dance over a catchy guitar riff. Greg Lind's drumming is limber but restrained, and even the drum machine that augments the music is nicely integrated-- as on the hot jazz-meets-IDM "Itchy Popcorn," which builds to speaker-shaking bass. Crouch is a low-key frontman with a thin, melodic voice, perfect for the tone of this record, and he and Ross Seligman play killer staccato lines on guitar.
I'd expect American bossa nova to be as bad as other Americanized ethnic creations, like American ska, or American chop suey. In addition to having a stand-up band, Crouch succeeds by not pretending to be anything he isn't-- instead of posing as a smooth island loverboy, he sticks to wry lyrics and mundane topics. He has three jobs: as a musician, as a designer, and as the head of this label; and he likes to talk about the need to slow down. Like the 'to do' list that's set to a beautiful tune on "Walk the Dog," or his potshots at hip visual artists in "Hot Designers." He writes witty love songs about (though not necessarily to) his "incredible" girlfriend, who he describes so sweetly in the liner notes that I winced hoping they haven't broken up since this came out. For example, the cutesy interplay in "Tap the Beat" (He: "And if I lost my legs..." She: "I would put you on my back/ And I would grab things off the shelf for you"). Hey, guys, get a room!
On a song like "Costa Del Sol" there's genuine yearning in Crouch's voice, the note of sincerity that makes it compelling and not just exotic. What does he yearn for? Maybe his girlfriend, though she probably hangs around plenty; maybe something as global as world peace, as on "Get Togetha." But more than anything, it sounds like Crouch wanted to vacation in a warm place and to party. And on the defrosting boardwalks, in the last gusts of New England's waning chill, that's good enough for me.
