To their credit, Tu Fawning are not simply the sum of their parts. The brainchild of Joe Haege and Corrina Repp, the band has little in common with either the sprained indie rock of his longtime group 31Knots or the muted folk excursions of her solo output. These two Portlanders have, however, lent their talents to each other's records in the past, and Tu Fawning grew out of Haege backing Repp on a European tour a few years ago before it expanded into a quartet of busy multi-instrumentalists. The most outstanding aspect of their debut full-length, Hearts on Hold, is how different this new act is from anything they've ever done. Guitar is only a walk-on; these songs are built on a foundation of droning horns, ambient sounds, and rumbling drums (mostly courtesy of percussionist Toussaint Perrault). Repp sings more forcefully and brazenly in this setting, drawing out her syllables languidly and paring down the lyrics to their barest syllables.
So, Tu Fawning is a means to indulge all the impulses that don't fit with their day-job acts-- an opportunity to start anew with a different set of rules, influences, and possibilities. Hearts on Hold certainly bears that out; its title is the only mundane thing about it. These songs are crammed with ideas and sounds, inventive and fluid as they bend and change shape. A baleful trumpet loop anchors opener "Multiply a House", forming an eerie backdrop whose simplicity reinforces its trip-hop potency. That horn will appear throughout the album, nodding alternately to Haege and Repp's love of early twentieth-century jazz and to cheesy neo-noir soundtracks (remember "The Salton Sea"?). Such associations are tempered by the percussion, which strictly regiments most of these songs. The simple time-keeping tap of "Lonely Nights" suggests the regular thrust of a pickaxe or shovel, which, along with the ominous call-and-response, evokes a field holler or prison work song.
Anchored to prominent drums and gloomy airs, Tu Fawning make a noise that might be best described as organic industrial. Yet, in this context the rigid rhythms of that genre sound stiff, convoluted, and-- perhaps most damningly-- premeditated. The musicians are so intent on creating and sustaining such dark moods that they dampen the songs rather than free them. "Just Too Much" struggles to live up to its title, to go off the rail and lead them into danger. Even as they build to a promised payoff, Tu Fawning rein everything in, creating a sense of timidity and truncation. It's a missed opportunity-- and not the only one on Hearts on Hold. The moody atmosphere is an end in itself for the band, but it would make a better starting point.
