Scott Irvine
10/28/07, 10:49 PM
Except After Sea - Waking Hungover From a Long Night of Sober
Released Summer 2007
Self-Released
Griefs with Atlanta's unpredictable weather are slowly becoming more than just a self-contained thought, a predicament that can be summed up in a disgruntled gesture or troubled sigh. It's daily conversation that you can almost expect to walk in to on any given trip to the Starbucks on Fairlie Poplar or among the weekend-hopping families outing in Centennial Olympic Park. It gives us a chance to complain about something else. Something we can’t control. This is liberating to some, I suppose. It’s in these last few weeks, though, that music (go figure) has helped me get away from dialogues that end with everyone looking up at the sky and cursing the subsequent breezes or raindrops. It’s been Except After Sea’s newest, Waking Hungover From a Long Night of Sober, that has helped me celebrate the coming winter with the album’s gorgeously stark tenor and distinctively superb vocals. Hot chocolate just doesn’t cut it anymore, it seems…
After realizing I drastically underrated the band’s previous effort, What Buildings Are Made Of, it was rather necessary to spend a little extra time with the follow-up. The four or five cute, little emailed reminders from drummer Brandon Ginsburg I have sitting in my inbox can attest that I’ve maybe spent a little too much with it. Buildings… was definitely a great starting point for the band. I mean, hell, “Tiny Game Pieces” alone is one dynamite demonstration. While the album’s elegantly subdued bounciness was refreshing in its own right, the band took Waking Hungover From a Long Night of Sober in a seemingly different direction. The extremely capable (read: astute) lyrics remain intact, however. The progression of the album is just more…careful.
Much like “Tiny Game Pieces”, “Pushing the Lord” starts the EP off and is clearly the best of the album. The song’s simple structure, established with a 1-2 drum beat and guitar plucks that follow the vocal’s ups-and-downs, is oddly captivating. As the song complicates, backing piano and anthemic interludes, you’ll realize why I chose to associate this album with the chillier weather. Something about the sudden vocal elongation of the verses seems to ice the streets. And can we be quite sure the pensive lyrical angle doesn’t aim to frost the windows? The lustrous rhythm of “Buildings” furthers my point. Everything appears so natural and crystalline. “Buildings are made of utensils for coffee/And neons that light outside/What medicines didn’t they take on their breaks/From skimming these on the side”. “It’s Not What You Think” rounds the album off on sort of a bleak note, but it’s interesting to see what Except After Sea can do with just an acoustic guitar and a subtle percussion backing. At certain points it sounds like Pearl Jam’s cover of “Last Kiss”, which if you put in the context of the entire album – works perfectly.
Now that I've fulfilled my obligation in listening and critiquing this album, will it fall out of my "Morning Walk to Class" rotation? Not until hoodies and beanies fall out of my clothing rotation, and even then testing the album against a new season sounds like a bright idea to me. It's an attachment that sounds as fresh as the first day I heard it through -- months and months ago. Except After Sea has become a day-to-day and inevitable by-and-by. Let them assimilate themselves into your setting and season. Alcohol just doesn't cut it anymore, it seems...
Released Summer 2007
Self-Released
Griefs with Atlanta's unpredictable weather are slowly becoming more than just a self-contained thought, a predicament that can be summed up in a disgruntled gesture or troubled sigh. It's daily conversation that you can almost expect to walk in to on any given trip to the Starbucks on Fairlie Poplar or among the weekend-hopping families outing in Centennial Olympic Park. It gives us a chance to complain about something else. Something we can’t control. This is liberating to some, I suppose. It’s in these last few weeks, though, that music (go figure) has helped me get away from dialogues that end with everyone looking up at the sky and cursing the subsequent breezes or raindrops. It’s been Except After Sea’s newest, Waking Hungover From a Long Night of Sober, that has helped me celebrate the coming winter with the album’s gorgeously stark tenor and distinctively superb vocals. Hot chocolate just doesn’t cut it anymore, it seems…
After realizing I drastically underrated the band’s previous effort, What Buildings Are Made Of, it was rather necessary to spend a little extra time with the follow-up. The four or five cute, little emailed reminders from drummer Brandon Ginsburg I have sitting in my inbox can attest that I’ve maybe spent a little too much with it. Buildings… was definitely a great starting point for the band. I mean, hell, “Tiny Game Pieces” alone is one dynamite demonstration. While the album’s elegantly subdued bounciness was refreshing in its own right, the band took Waking Hungover From a Long Night of Sober in a seemingly different direction. The extremely capable (read: astute) lyrics remain intact, however. The progression of the album is just more…careful.
Much like “Tiny Game Pieces”, “Pushing the Lord” starts the EP off and is clearly the best of the album. The song’s simple structure, established with a 1-2 drum beat and guitar plucks that follow the vocal’s ups-and-downs, is oddly captivating. As the song complicates, backing piano and anthemic interludes, you’ll realize why I chose to associate this album with the chillier weather. Something about the sudden vocal elongation of the verses seems to ice the streets. And can we be quite sure the pensive lyrical angle doesn’t aim to frost the windows? The lustrous rhythm of “Buildings” furthers my point. Everything appears so natural and crystalline. “Buildings are made of utensils for coffee/And neons that light outside/What medicines didn’t they take on their breaks/From skimming these on the side”. “It’s Not What You Think” rounds the album off on sort of a bleak note, but it’s interesting to see what Except After Sea can do with just an acoustic guitar and a subtle percussion backing. At certain points it sounds like Pearl Jam’s cover of “Last Kiss”, which if you put in the context of the entire album – works perfectly.
Now that I've fulfilled my obligation in listening and critiquing this album, will it fall out of my "Morning Walk to Class" rotation? Not until hoodies and beanies fall out of my clothing rotation, and even then testing the album against a new season sounds like a bright idea to me. It's an attachment that sounds as fresh as the first day I heard it through -- months and months ago. Except After Sea has become a day-to-day and inevitable by-and-by. Let them assimilate themselves into your setting and season. Alcohol just doesn't cut it anymore, it seems...