At least for the time being, psych-folk trio Mountaineers aren't going to shake the Flaming Lips comparisons, or the Beta Band ones, or, in some painful instances, the Counting Crows ones. The Wales-now-Liverpool-based band should be flattered, though: Their debut long-player, Messy Century, for all its thinly veiled similarities to these bands (Mountaineers' disguise is often no more than bedroom synthesizer manipulations or some lo-fi laptop haze), also often approaches some of their better influences' levels of songwriting sophistication.
With the exception of opening track "Ripen", which swaggers in all self-satisfied but with nothing notable to justify the smirk, pretty much every song on Messy Century has one or two inventive moments before Mountaineers take skewed recourse to tried indie-psych formulas. "Sewing" employs a smart cut-up acoustic guitar stutter before launching into vocoded Adam Duritz melodrama. The wildly interesting syncopated drum and bass backbeat (though not drum-n-bass) of "Want to Write You", in union with lead singer Tomas Kelar's poignant downspun melody, is complete bliss until one catches wind of the teenage lyricism and the sweep of a painfully emotive chorus. The first half of "I Gotta Sing" is irresistible-- Kelar spins a melody inverse to the one of "Want to Write You", but equally catchy, atop a simple choked acoustic strum, warm strings, and a tasteful dose of blips and whiffs, before the drums enter and obliterate the song's charming internal pulse.
The moments that stick out all seem to partake in some subtle, non-disruptive use of sampling, and, while not approaching the electro-acoustic psychedelia of, say, Manitoba's Up in Flames, the nearly undetectable integration of laptop-based microloops and guitar stutters on Messy Century is a characteristic that, if more fleshed out, might help Mountaineers distinguish themselves from the genre's muses.
Motives are unclear as to why Mountaineers so shamelessly mimicking Kid A-era Radiohead balladry on "It's Solid", and it's equally confusing why, in "Apart from This", the trio takes such an honest stab at house music, a decision which results in little more than a Daft Punk parody. That said, Mountaineers redeem themselves manifold with two songs that are simply fantastic, regardless of however many influences inform them. "Belgique Limb" enters with a dark bitch-brew prelude, then spends time in vague Flaming Lips territory before delivering a sudden swell of sputtered guitar strums and passionate but off-kilter melody in cross-panned chorus. Whistling, jangly guitars, and the quirky shuffling beat of "UK Theatre" evoke the Mountaineers' namesake nearly perfectly, and seem to hint at some folk update the band intended. More importantly, the song proves that Mountaineers are capable of avoiding the dangerous "regular old folk but with computer noises" rut into which many acts have stumbled. Especially in a genre that often succeeds for its honesty and lack of ornament-- electronic or otherwise-- Messy Century manages to keep songwriting as its focus, but to find the space within for tasteful and often compelling experimentation.
