Help Popwreckoning by Bookmarking us on Delicious
Why yes, that talent you hear leading the pack of Kevin Hearn and Thin Buckle is familiar…if you owned or came in contact with a radio in and beyond 1998. Hearn is the keyboardist for pop-perfect band Barenaked Ladies, and his digital seduction of the keys is arguably what gave Stunt the edge it needed for such strong Grammy notice. And in standard musical rite of passage—under-represented band member makes a name for himself solo—Hearn joins the ranks of names like Kevin Drew (Broken Social Scene), Brian Bonz (Kevin Devine and the Goddamn Band), and J Tillman (Fleet Foxes). Solo albums are so hip and freeing. Especially when you get to collaborate with anything that has been graced by the presence of Lou freaking Reed (thank you guitarist Mike Rathke).
An admittedly impressive resume does not a good album make. And this collection of a mere seven songs has no direct sound. All I can guarantee is a hefty dosage of experimental drifty electronic keyboard, a woman’s occasional presence, and Hearn’s dreamy tender play of lyrics. Out of the seven, four of the songs will instigate a little head bopping, like album opener “Coma.” That track can proposition a listener to conjure a power point presentation of spring blooming, or a city waking up and shuffling around on subways on its way to work, or the point in a movie when the credits roll and a heartfelt lesson was learned. And then a wicked angsty guitar comes rasping in with no point—but that’s what I like.
Despite “Coma,” next song “On The Runway” keeps the upbeat notion but turns into a video game soundtrack (think Mario Kart and Raving Rabbits, not Halo) that has the percussion, swing bass, and sunny female backing of a “Copacabana” homage. That angsty guitar comes back, but this time you’re starting to feel a little too Santana-ish.
“Reeling” features some strings, twang and a creepy haunting female interruption that I can’t even begin to liken to anything. “Luna” continues with that slow down sound, ethereal echoing guitars and melodically soft vocals. A conclusion in “H.I.T.S.” is hopeful, and wants to convey the official sound of the band, which is something like dreamy 60s popsicle Sexsmith piano play with twang and riff. I just made that up. But in Havana Winter, it seems like the band wants their image something indirect like that. Sure I hear a little bizarre Flaming Lips, even some of the playful play of The Atlas Sound. But then why am I wishing it sounded a little more earthy and manageable, like Yo La Tengo? Maybe because Hearn’s vocals don’t blend with the dreamy innocence he’s going for.
And if it helps, I listened to the album over and over while sipping on a Sierra Mist and OJ spritzer, lounging Papasan-style in the late afternoon Chicago sun. On a balcony. And despite such relaxing accompaniments, I just couldn’t wait to switch tracks. The relaxing aura they were going for was lost on me.
Fellow blogger Adam Morgan over at Surviving the Golden Age agrees: “The album does get a little too spacey for its own good. “Reeling” is the most obvious example; any lyrical quirks are lost in the seemingly banal instrumentation. Although the song is one of the shortest on the album at 3:47, it feels much longer than the others.”
Havana Winter is available now.
Kevin Hearn and Thin Buckle: website | myspace
