Combine their rustic, throwback image and prodigious work ethic and Woods is about as literal as the term “cottage industry” gets in indie rock*—*not only do they run a label, they also throw an annual get-together in Big Sur consisting of “two days of mellow music and celebration.” And it's possible that attending the Woodsist Festival is the only way to find people who engage in heated debate about how one would rank Woods’ discography. By 2012’s Bend Beyond, they’d released five proper LPs in as many years, all just about equally good. Their impeccable consistency can make you wonder if Woods have the impulses or incentive to truly go for it. The result of a relatively lengthy two-year process, their new album With Light and With Love might not be a bold reinvention, but there's an unmistakable focus and determination that can serve as a proper substitute for overt, bar-raising ambition.
Similar to the Men’s Tomorrow’s Hits and Future Islands’ Singles, other 2014 albums by respected "lo-fi" bands recording in a “real studio”, With Light and With Love is a reminder that while Woods' hard-touring, road-dog reputation has solidifed their fanbase, people show up in the first place because the band can write great songs. This isn’t a jamband who occasionally stumbles onto golden tunes: Jeremy Earl’s high, distinct voice is predisposed to melodies that quickly corkscrew their way into your memory*.* The differences between the classicist pop-rock of “Only the Lonely” and early Shins mostly come down to the vocal effects being used.
"Only the Lonely" is one of the many times where the relatively sparkly production of With Light and With Love shortens the distance between Woods and quasi-indie acts that fill much bigger festival bills. “Moving to the Left” isn’t their first shot at a crossover, but it's their best; they emphasize their rhythm section with caricatured, bulging bass and a snappy, near-synthetic drum track that typifies Yoshimi-era Flaming Lips. Earl sings, “It feels strange/ It feels the same”, and that’s really With Light and With Love summed up, since nothing Woods do here will alienate anyone other than the most hardcore 4-track enthusiasts. “Moving to the Left” still slowly unravels into a coda filled with wah-wah guitars, and it’s preceded by the requisite Woods woodshedder that takes up an inordinate amount of the LP’s space. The title track is over 9 minutes, yet it never feels improvisatory or exploratory or tacked on*—*the wigged-out soloing isn’t meant to show Woods’ considerable chops, only to serve the masterful return to its forceful chorus.
Still, With Light and With Lovenever makes much of a fuss about its aims. Earl’s lyrics are inquisitive in nature without giving you much to chew on, taking on the form of homilies about self-discovery and existential doubt. No matter how many times I’ve heard him sing “Are we floating by and by/ Are we moving to the left?”, the question never sounds particularly answerable, let alone urgent. And towards the back half, Woods occasionally revert to a genial folk-rock band that can anonymously blend into "indie BBQ" playlists.
But the versatility of Woods becomes more evident throughout the album, as they spread outwards rather than building upward: you get B3-infused soul (“Leaves Like Glass”), breezy psychedelia (“New Light”) and darker shades of American Beauty (“Shining”), giving jamband types, roots fans, folkies, indie kids and DIY fetishists a place to link up. “Breakthrough”, “masterpiece”, “bold leap”*—*those aren’t words that really seem applicable to With Light and With Love, or Woods for that matter, but they’re allowing themselves to be extremely likable for a larger crowd.
