Floridian Ben Cooper is the one-man-band recording as Radical Face. He's also half of the Morr duo Electric President, a project focused on muted indie pop in the Postal Service vein that has come to define the label. But where Electric President continually reminds you of digital nature of the production, with its glitchy beats and cut-up instruments, Radical Face is where Cooper indulges his more trad songwriting ambitions. Though it is sequenced and computer-tweaked, this is folk-flavored indie rock for the Sufjan set, with banjo, accordion, and organ augmenting the central acoustic guitar.
Despite being a solo project with acoustic leanings, Radical Face is a much "bigger" album than the more electronic Electric President's 2006 debut. Home studios being what they are these days, Cooper generally gets an impressively layered sound out of his array of instruments, and he structures his songs to show his production prowess in the most flattering light. When the forceful strums and clattering background percussion of "Welcome Home"-- the melody reminds me a bit of Simon & Garfunkel with less than half the vocal range-- turns around into the soaring wordless chorus, all available space is filled and the pang of longing feels real. During its even grander climax, the longer "Glory" squeezes in whistling, a multi-tracked Cooper doing three-part harmony, loads of acoustic and electric guitars, and bashing drums. When the overdriven guitar fades out after the final chord, it segues seamlessly into a vibraphone loop mixed with crackling vinyl (a recurring motif) and the light piano that opens "Strangest Things". The transitions and sequencing here seem carefully considered, with bits of field recordings and sampled voices carrying the mood from one song to the next.
Two problems present themselves. First, though the production is initially arresting, it begins to feel a bit flat and lifeless over the record's length. It's a setback similar to the one I encountered listening to Psapps The Only Thing I Ever Wanted, and may just be a personal aversion to a certain kind of forward leaning, TV-show-montage-ready mode of digital recording. While surface noise is non-existent, the dynamic range seems oddly pinched and the musical field indistinct. Ghost, in a purely sonic sense, is simply tiring to listen to.
The second issue is more subjective still, and it has to do with Cooper's voice. He does what he can with his flat and nasal instrument, which is at times reminiscent of Dean Wareham with a head cold. He restricts his melodies to notes he can hit, and you can make compelling and even classic songs with such limitations (see Leonard Cohen's discography). But Cooper has the added handicap of a bland vocal personality. He certainly sounds sincere and occasionally even sweet, but mostly his singing is disconcertingly generic. Which is the sort of thing that will bother some and others, perhaps feeling empathy with the underdog, will be drawn to. From where I sit, his voice brings down what otherwise seems to be a promising album of reasonably catchy songs.
