In the world of Woods, minor refinements mean a lot. Bend Beyond is the Brooklyn band's seventh album in seven years, and in broad terms it isn't all that different from Woods' other records. The group's reference points remain the same: 1960s sunshine pop, the Grateful Dead's improvisational explorations, and 90s lo-fi. The most immediately distinctive attribute of Woods' music-- and its most decisive point of demarcation-- is singer Jeremy Earl's childlike falsetto; if you can't appreciate Earl's voice, Woods' rapidly growing discography (which is also rounded out by various EPs and singles) will be a non-starter. Otherwise, that body of work is among the most consistently enjoyable from any young indie rock band in the past several years, and Bend Beyond is Woods' most approachable gateway yet.
As for the minor refinements made on Bend Beyond, they aren't all that minor at all, actually-- the songwriting is more disciplined, and the production offers more clarity and variety than ever before. While 2011's Sun and Shade exhibited Woods' jammy side amid the usual folk-pop gems, Bend Beyond is all pop, all the time, with only one song running past the four-minute mark, and only by 25 seconds. That song happens to be the foreboding title track, already one of the all-time great Woods tracks and an in-concert highlight that runs two or three times longer live than on record. But even in truncated form, "Bend Beyond" is a thrilling example of Woods' ability (in spite of living thousands of miles away on the opposite coast) to conjure the spirits of L.A. folk rock and the dark vibes emanating from the scene's seamy underbelly. If "Bend Beyond" is the album's best song, "Is It Honest?" sounds like the record's surest hit, opening with a shimmering electric-guitar riff that might be the single catchiest moment on any Woods album. (Though it's rivaled by the harmonica blowing like a train whistle through "Cali in a Cup".) But darkness lingers in "Is It Honest?", too-- "It's so fucking hard to see," Earl spits in the chorus, an uncommonly aggressive moment in this group's otherwise peaceful, pastoral universe.
Whatever battles are being waged in the lyrics against demons real and imagined don't carry over to the music, which is effervescent and sweetly touching and unmistakably presented with well-earned confidence and new-found polish. On past records, Woods might have obscured the delicate campfire ballad "It Ain't Easy" in layers of tape hiss. (Tape manipulator G. Lucas Crane is mostly absent throughout Bend Beyond.) But here it shines in crystal-clear fidelity, and the stunning melody earns such treatment, carried on sparkling acoustic guitar and Earl's tender, heart-tugging vocal.
In an interview with Pitchfork earlier this year, Earl said the idea on Bend Beyond was to spend a little more time on the songs than usual, as opposed to the extemporaneous approach of past releases: "That was always our style: embrace the spontaneous energy of recording a song the minute after it's written, do the overdubs really fast, mix while recording. For this album, we decided to re-record stuff more." You can hear that extra care in the fantastically menacing organ riff on "Find Them Empty" and the chiming guitar riff that lifts the chorus of the charming "Impossible Sky". For the first time, Woods have given their own songs their full due on record.
Fans of Woods' "spontaneous energy" might lament the relative straight-forwardness of Bend Beyond (even if the band's recent self-titled split release with Amps For Christ suggests they haven't entirely left that approach behind). But Woods' greatest strength has always been songwriting, and sharpening the focus and cleaning up the production has only enhanced the band's welcoming melodies. Besides, it's about time this chronically undervalued group broadened its audience a bit. After Bend Beyond, there are plenty of other great Woods records that await neophytes.
