Wye Oak – The Knot (Music Review)
By Bill Purdy • Jun 11th, 2009 • Category: Categories, Indie Pop, Music Genres, ReviewsWye Oak
The Knot
Merge
Rating: 4 out of 5
Wye Oak’s 2007 debut, If Children, sounded very much like a self-released debut album from a promising young band without a record deal. It opened with “Please Concrete,” a bit of a jaw dropper that combined the loud-soft-loud post rock of Mogwai with the brooding folkiness of slowcore pioneers Low, then trailed off into a pleasant but ultimately underwhelming collection of songs.
Their follow-up, The Knot, delivers on If Children’s promise in spades. It is still, recognizably, a Wye Oak record. The distinctive musical elements – Jenn Wasner’s plaintive voice floating amid an occasional cacophany of guitar and drums – are all there.
This time around, though, the band has matured significantly. Wasner’s voice has evolved from early Cat Power to early Christine McVie (not a bad thing), and Andy Stack’s voice is only heard in harmony (an excellent decision — he’s a much more effective multi-instrumentalist than he is a singer). They’ve also added subtle string arrangements, slide guitar, and some banjo to the mix as well, eliciting the sort of gothic melancholy that you might hear on, say, a 16 Horsepower album.
The opening track, “Milk and Honey,” sets a deeply restrained tone, as Wasner and Stack harmonize alongside a plodding drumbeat while guitars soar in the background but never quite come to roost. When they finally do touch down, about a minute into “The Prayer,” it feels oddly cathartic. “Tattoo,” the soaring musical centerpiece of The Knot, begins with a redemptive, uplifiting, gospel chorus before settling into the hopeful “I Want For Nothing.” The whole record is really nothing more than a reinforcement of this theme of restraint and catharsis. Some listeners might find it repetitive and samey-sounding, but these ears find it compelling at a very personal level that is difficult to articulate.
Despite its many redeemable qualities, The Knot may have a tough time finding the audience it deserves. It’s just not the sort of record you want to share with your friends. It is, however, the perfect soundtrack for a long, solo, nighttime drive across town, or an hour sitting under a tree (a large oak tree, perhaps?) by a lake on a humid summer day.
Bill Purdy is not a musician. He hasn't a musical bone in his body. That pretty much disqualifies him as a musician (you don't want to be in the room on the rare occasion when he tries to make music), but it apparently doesn't impair his ability to consume music — especially new music — at a ravenous pace. He also likes to tell anyone within earshot what he thinks of music, fancies himself a critic of some sort. We, of course, know better.
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