Tapes 'n Tapes have earned the love of music bloggers, music buyers, and fans across the country, selling over 10,000 copies in the US since the November 1st release of "The Loon" on their self run record label. Their sound is the basement indie of Pavement, the eclecticism of Talking Heads, and the frenzied power of The Pixies, but with a vital, thrilling, and unique blast of energy and melody that has rarely been combined before. "At SXSW, two of the most extraordinary bands defied categories and tore apart verse-chorus-verse forms. Tapes 'n Tapes were rhapsodic, with songs that metamorphosed from reticence to frenzy and back" - The NY Times.
Tapes 'n Tapes
The Loon
[Ibid; 2006]
Rating: 8.3
You won't find a tougher sell on neoclassicism than yours truly, so imagine my surprise how this strummy slab from the thrift racks has become one of my early '06 faves. Minneapolis-based Tapes 'n Tapes do it by the book-- that's to say, off the cuff, taking cues from indie legends and newies alike with star-pupil rigor, but never sweating the exam. Here's a charismatic, playfully slipshod band unconcerned with making all the loose ends meet up, audacious enough to leave the dot-connecting to us. But then, never quite knowing which Feelies riff or Malkmus vocal turn or, hell, CYHSY organ sound these guys will strike with next is precisely what makes The Loon such a rich, participatory, and eminently repeatable experience.
Tapes 'n Tapes kneel before Pavement, Wire, Beach Boys, and Pixies, bearing their influences more publically than notebook logo sketches. But facing the task of averting obviousness, they play the uncool card: "The Iliad" dresses its keystones in afro-MIDI percussion, cuica and humorously fake timbale, its garb recalling the shy kid in sculpture class who could be a hipster if not for those Sketchers: Are the kicks a defense mechanism, ironic one-upmanship, or just a really good deal at TJ Maxx? It's all part of their unpretentious approachability and charm. Tandem tracks "In Houston" and "Manitoba" lounge out with surprise vibe melodies, incongruously smooth counterpoints to an otherwise gruff sound. But the move doesn't raise eyebrows, instead fostering a mellow whiskey-belly warmth. Inconsistency, Tapes 'n Tapes understand, adds character and colorizes personality; it also keeps listeners off-balance and wanting more.
If their aesthetic choices sometimes bewilder, the vocals hit nearer mindfuck. Resistant to the emotionally soaring, soft-spot-as-high-point bone their forebears never hesitated to throw, Tapes 'n Tapes seethe smarm and snark. "I've been a better lover with your mother," frontman Josh Grier snarls over restless, incorrigible strums on "Cowbell". But while smack talk's good for a snicker, the band choose introspection over in-joke on "Insistor", whose initially hushed, scat-quick vocals rise to meet the song's surging polka rhythm for a transcendent chorus: "And when you rush I'll call your name like Harvard Square holds all inane." Delivered with just enough desperation to defeat its inscrutability, the line's sweet as Nutella from the jar, and probably healthier.
Unknowable lyrics aren't the only device Tapes 'n Tapes use to summon their primary influence (ahem, Pavement); the band's strict strums-over-riffs philosophy activates last-decade memories, too. "10 Gallon Ascots", alternately the album's softest and loudest cut, rides a furtive, sneaking rhythm that seems channelled straight from "Stop Breathin'", while "In Houston" fuses its "Two States" two-beat stomp to the record's most Malkmusian vocal articulation, an allusion so overt (and dead-on) it verges on memorial. But the band forgoes their heroes' ascetic brevity-- they're just too happy to wail, and too hyperactive to be stopped. "Crazy Eights" balloons from 90-second instrumental placeholder to something more complex after suddenly wormholing from casual swing to overdriven straight-time; "Manitoba" shakes off its blissful pre-dawn slumber to kick an ecstatic, vibraphone-free coda.
While strong faith is always convincing, Tapes 'n Tapes succeed by practice as much as passion, articulating a conventional vocabulary with rare erudition. As such, The Loon brings something for everybody. Not that the band's diplomacy is a kowtow: Loving is just their quaint way of asking for love. Credit yourself if you can get down with a program offering up so many been-there-done-that indicators. Or better, credit the band for avoiding the toothless mush that typically results from this sort of populism, and arriving instead at a fresh vision through eloquent pastiche.
-Sam Ubl, February 28, 2006
Review by Heather Phares
At first, Tapes 'n Tapes' much buzzed-about debut album, The Loon, plays like a CliffsNotes of indie rock, serving up the shouty, snotty sound of early Modest Mouse ("Just Drums"), Pavement's laid-back angles and historically astute lyrics ("The Iliad"), and the surreal strumminess of Come on Pilgrim-era Pixies ("Cowbell"). But just because Tapes 'n Tapes broadcast their influences so clearly throughout The Loon doesn't make it a bad album. Actually, the built-in familiarity of their sound is kind of comforting, particularly on pleasantly meandering pop songs like "Buckle" and "Jakov's Suite," and "Manitoba," a woozy ballad that recalls the Walkmen at their prettiest (and tipsiest). And, as The Loon unfolds, it shows Tapes 'n Tapes developing a style of their own -- or, at least, a more distinctive take on the indie bedrock on which their sound is built. The aptly named "Insistor" gallops out of the gate with more confidence and excitement than many of the album's other tracks. The abrupt tempo and dynamic shifts on this song and "In Houston," which pairs sparkly keyboards and almost jazzy verses with crunchy, sharp-edged choruses, show a flair for movement and drama that could become Tapes 'n Tapes' signature. "Omaha" is another standout, with subtly sophisticated drumming and lush, bittersweet vocal harmonies. However, The Loon is crafted like a true album; even if all the songs don't quite reach the level of its highlights, it all hangs together well, with appealing tossed-off tracks like "Crazy Eights" and the just-rough-enough-around-the-edges production adding to its personality. On the first few spins, it might be hard to understand what all the hype around The Loon is about, but it may be down to the fact that it's just a really solidly made album.
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