I've been with Go Forth for one full week now. I mean that in the same sort of way you might say, with simpering pride or dull resignation, "I've been with my girlfriend forever"; or, obstetrically speaking, "I've been with child"; or even, congenitally speaking-- and best of luck to you-- "I've been with spina bifida." Thankfully, no one will be wed, dumped, birthed, or subjected to painful corrective spinal surgery as a result of this album. And yet, the week I've spent with it feels like months or years in album-time. An ordeal.
With ordeals come the necessary shifting perspectives and vacillating opinions, which can be at turns violent and sudden, or geologically gradual in pace. My first session with Go Forth was marked by extreme interest, but tainted by slight disappointment. On subsequent listens, the disappointment gave way to total addiction. And, as tends to happen with addictions, I eventually burned out on these 12 songs and left them cold turkey. Predictably, though, I was soon back in their grip, if aware of their shortcomings.
On "Adoptuction," a hilarious ode to a Stockholm Syndrome dream, Tim Harrington sings, "The haggling went on for days/ The days went on for weeks/ And weeks for years." And so it went with my appraisal of this album. It's been a kind of bargaining process. I sat at one side of the table, lowballing the merit of the record in relation to 3/5, The Cat and the Cobra, and especially the sparkling Rome (Written Upside Down) EP. The album, however, wouldn't budge. And, like a seasoned junk-peddler at a bazaar hawking an obviously flawed but highly covetable art object, it edged me inch by inch until I was pretty damn near the original asking price.
Pardon that goofy simile while I get on to some specifics. With indie mainstay Phil Ek producing, the RISD-born Brooklyn four-piece have assembled a maddeningly spacy, fairly inconsistent, but very rich set of songs that capitalize on the leftover space from guitarist Gibb Slife's departure. As it turns out, it's not quite on par with what last year's Rome EP promised, but it's also not without its virtues.
"Tragic Monsters" is a beautiful opener, awash in whirring guitar lines and keyboard fuzz that become indistinguishable from one another. Harrington's lyrics are as droll, piquant, and fun as ever. His word games, as such, aren't exactly works of genius, and it seems a favorite past-time of some people to point this out. What I think those people fail to appreciate is how consistently Harrington is able to combine charming alliteration, funny turns of phrase, imagistically inventive scenarios, and thematic cohesion, and ply them all to the rhythmic demands of his more-often-than-not good-ass melodies. If you offhandedly disregard his lyrics because they seem silly and sophomoric, you're missing the big picture.
"Reprobate's Resume" is strange, beginning with an odd introductory section that bears little relation to the song's main body. "Blessed be the doctor/ And blessed be the nurse/ Blessed be the coachman/ Who put me in the hearse," spits Harrington over a skeletal drum and distorted guitar riff arrangement. The song's peak comes at the end, as its fading rock percussion yields to the dubby, echo-washed drum track of "Crawling Can Be Beautiful."
"Crawling" reveals itself as pure late-70s British-- all Wire, Clash, and Gang of Four, yet distinctly Les Savy Fav: "Who here finds this world distracting/ Who here finds this world a bore/ Who here thinks we're all play-acting/ And that the show's piss poor?" Meanwhile, "Disco Drive," which integrates electronics into the mix more convincingly than any of the prior songs, is the one track that could have easily come off the Rome EP. In the overall scheme of this album, though, it's just an aperitif for the absurdly catchy track that follows.
"The Slip" takes telekinetic control of your ass like it was a gluteal remote control. Harrison Haynes' sick disco dance beat and Syd Butler's slippery bassline comprise what has to be one of the most immediately likeable moments of rock in the past five years. The sugar wears, as of course it must, but for the first few listens-- and probably all subsequent ones if you space them out reasonably-- this track will convince you of Les Savy Fav's singular role in today's sad state of rock. Of weird note is the fact that both "Disco Drive" and "The Slip" sound very much like late-80s the Cure, only substituting the insufferably plaintive Robert Smith with Harrington's frenetic wails.
"Daily Dares," though apparently serving some purpose in terms of track sequence, is on its own forgettable. Things get back to good on "One to Three," though, a quirky ballad that's as much Pink Floyd (wait, come back!) as the Pixies. Some of the album's finest moments are to be found on the aforementioned "Adoptuction" and the album's penultimate track (and final song proper), "Bloom On Demand," the latter showing off Seth Jabour's always sharp guitar bursts and snakey lines.
Though not quite the aural scorched-earth campaign you'd have hoped for if you, too, were slaughtered by Rome (Written Upside Down), Go Forth is nonetheless going to make most people's year-end lists, and is more than reason enough to catch any of Les Savy Fav's famous live shows. These songs, a force in their own right, will sear in person, even if they're merely hot to the touch on record.
