The ladies and gentlemen of Avi Buffalo are all about 19, and you might say they do a good job acting their age; they're ponderous but not brooding, strident yet skeptical, and really, really horny. As his band saunters around him, frontlad Avigdor Zahner-Isenberg finds himself "lost in your summer cum" and puzzles over mortality: "Too much time to die," he and bandmate Rebecca Coleman sing in unison, "and I don't wanna die." His voice, never too far from a crack, lends that riff on impermanence the same weight as his takes on young lust.
For all their age-appropriate fumbling, Avi Buffalo seem graceful beyond their years as songwriters. As many starkly intimate moments as they muster, a few of their tunes unfurl into near-epic lengths, gallantly breezing through moods and motifs. Snatches of Wilco's easy early-2000s amble, Built to Spill's curly fretwork, and Shins-y shuffle turn up everywhere here, occasionally all at once. The sound is tangled-- they take the scenic route to their best ideas-- but each move feels carefully considered. Spend enough time unspooling the tunes, and little pockets in these compositions start to open up, revealing an uncommon regard for detail and-- in the case of Zahner-Isenberg's guitar flittering-- a rather deft musicianship.
All that helps pass off their sweet, redolent, and pretty damn twee lyrical outlook; "I've never written a love song," Zahner-Isenberg sings several love songs deep into the album, later noting, "but I will for you," and that-- plus a good bit of dirty talk, literal and otherwise-- constitutes their worldview at the moment. But what might come across as merely cutesy from another writer feels deeply felt and finely tuned here; lots of lovesick teenager wannabes dumb it down, but he smarts it up, throwing lots of rich images and headstrong proclamations into his not-always-sweet nothings. It's not so much diaristic as it is the kind of too-forward-in-hindsight shit you say to someone you're trying to get with at that age; it can be awkward, but it's an awkwardness he seems oddly comfortable with.
And Avi Buffalo have every reason to be sure of themselves; this sneakily complex, unsappily sentimental, thoughtfully naïve debut is a very early success. There might be some moments that wander a bit off course, a few solos that could've wound down a minute early, or a couple of lyrics a tad too ribald for their starlit surroundings. But to be young is to be a bit clumsy sometimes, after all. And Avi Buffalo are, as they'll remind you, young yet.
