Jason Quever has been writing and recording as Papercuts for well over a decade at this point, fleshing out his take on the last 50 years of oft-dreamy, pillow-soft pop-rock. His gaze spans from the Velvet Underground to contemporaries like Grizzly Bear and Beach House—the latter’s guitarist, Alex Scally, is an occasional collaborator—and he filters the sounds of these groups using his voice, a woolly and versatile instrument that moves from breathy melancholy to a lapsed choirboy falsetto with ease. Quever’s new full-length, Life Among the Savages, places a spotlight on his skills as a producer and arranger playing with several new variations on his warm, woodsy music.
From a production standpoint, Life Among the Savages sounds consistently strong, even when songs swell to accommodate Quever's dense arrangements. The album was mostly recorded in his San Francisco home studio, so comfort and familiarity clearly informs its bright sound. The record is an easy, pleasant listen, but it's not particularly compelling as a whole, occasionally falling into a pattern of contented stuffiness. Quever can't always cut through the light fog of his arrangements with his gentle, fuzzy vocal takes, so he has to rely on the strength of his melodies and arrangements to keep songs from turning soporific.
After a baroque opening third, the record starts to wake up on "Staring at the Bright Lights", where Quever lays down a distant, ringing guitar line that corrodes and sparks as the song unfolds. The song sounds a little like the luminous, spacious guitar pop of Deerhunter guitarist Lockett Pundt's Lotus Plaza project, a welcome change from the album's more uptight moments. Strong guitar leads factor in Life Among the Savages' finest moments: the dusty, late-1960s ramble of "Family Portrait", the knotty patterns of "Psychic Friends".
Just as Quever's music consciously roots itself in time-honored pop and folk traditions, his lyrics are imbued with a similar sense of setting: he makes note of times and places—"Psychic Friends" finds him cataloging memories against the backdrop of a chilly winter equinox—and uses natural imagery well, like the wilderness detailing of "Afterlife Blues." There's also a palpable sadness often hanging around Quever's writing, an off-kilter sense of dread; on tracks like "New Body" and "Family Portrait," that sense works against the songs' musical lightness, creating intriguing tension. That valuable tension is just another expression of the truth that lurks in the background throughout Life Among the Savages: Quever realizes his true potential when he eschews easy comfort and warmth to introduce elements that are a little more challenging.
