Hospitality
Trouble
(Merge)
Later
tonight (February 9th, 2014, as I write this), Brooklyn band
Hospitality will be performing a show at Portland’s
Doug Fir Lounge. I plan on attending, since I somehow made an
excuse not to go after their prior trip through town (in support of their
wonderful 2012 self-titled debut - #24 pick seen here). And again, I find
myself in a dilemma. The show is a
Sunday night. We’ve had a shower of ice
layer over the streets after a few days of unusual amounts of snow, I’m old, I
work early tomorrow morning, and I’m not sure I will be able to convince anyone
to join me. Should I go? I’m listening to their new second album right
now and the internal battle between my love of music and desire to support the
bands I love versus the cheap old curmudgeon shut in that I’ve become rages on. What to do?
There is a
dilemma spread across Trouble as
well. Of course, the crossroads explored
in vocalist/guitarist Amber Papini’s
lyrics are a lot more in depth and more important than my trivial one. Papini seems to be stuck in a purgatory
between the desire for a relationship and a desire to be alone. This is something I think all of us can
identify with at some point in our lives.
Do we want to deal with the weirdness, frustration, compromise and
potential heartbreak of dating or do we want to be lonely? Neither one sounds particularly appealing,
does it? Maybe this is the jaded view
and we should always dream of that perfect match that only a rare few of us
seem to find in life, but such are the emotional ups and downs of love and
life.
Let’s begin
with the lonely side of the equation.
The smooth Luna sounding
first single, “Going Out” (the video fittingly stars Luna’s Dean Wareham and Britta Phillips), finds our protagonist dressing up for a night on
the town (“ruffled dresses and parasols / rhinestone rings and high-heeled
soles / wrapped in cloth from your head to toe”), but the frosty night only
turns out to be an evening stroll alone (“you’re looking at yourself a lot /
standing in the glass with costume on / posed for no one but you were
caught”). The stuttering “I Miss Your
Bones” finds her alone either from separation or from being let go, while the
epic and mysterious sounding “Last Words” finds her stranded on an island
wanting companionship desperately enough to “evacuate to salty arms of a
soldier or a snake.” On the closing
spare acoustic “Call Me After,” Papini finds herself outstaying her welcome due
to a rainstorm and the resulting humiliation of this realization: “Will you
want me after? / will you want to walk me home in the dark? / is it the weather
that just keeps me?”
Yet, on the
other side of the coin, the album opens up with Papini’s faux British accent
cursing a cheating lover in “Nightingale” (“If you sleep here you’ll see sirens
and vamps”) over the top of spectacularly splashing cymbals in the rousing
denial chorus: “What girl?” In the brief
“Inaugaration” finds Papini sitting alone watching TV and giving a subtle kiss
off to her missing partner (“Why you call and say / you’ll call me back / I’ll
disconnect the line”), while the first album Psychedelic Furs sounding “Rockets and Jets” is a case of a lovely
sunny afternoon out watching planes when things go south (“I left the knife on
the rafter / I’ll have your heart after / I know this won’t last too long /
I’ll have the day a long long time”).
Meanwhile, the frank “It’s Not Serious” is all about being the on the
other side and disinterested – “I’ll figure out / I don’t want this / and so it’s
not serious”). Clearly, there are no
easy answers. We are all heroes and
villains in the world of love – depending on whose side you’re on, but finding
a balance between independence and companionship is not easy to achieve.
Musically,
this sophomore album is a big departure from the to-the-point baroque pop of
their debut. As hinted at in the post
album double-A sided 7,” “The Drift” b/w “Monkey,” the band have decided to
stretch things out and linger over notes and passages in a more spacious way. Much like the early 80s post-punk influenced
cover art (reminds me of early OMD);
the music sounds like it could’ve been recorded from that period. There is a darkness and mystery behind many
of these songs and the keyboard layers and moments of programmed beats and
stark piano hammers enhance the indecisiveness and hollow feelings of the words,
while the space allows for bolder crescendos and longer passages of near
silence.
It is fun to
hear a band growing and trying new things and so successfully. This album is an enjoyable listen from start
to finish from the get go, but it reveals more and more with repetition. Now, should I go to the show tonight? I really should. They’ve travelled a meandering 3,000 plus
miles to arrive here across a nation decimated by bone chilling cold and
treacherous roads. It seems as though I
could chance a 15 minute drive to see them perform. But I do have to be up early tomorrow….
Hospitality "Going Out"
