I'm going to MassMOCA, Kate.

Have fun, Jon! I'm firmly in the pro-Fiery Furnaces camp. Is there a more wacky, brilliant band working today? They combine the best of late 60s pop-psychedelia (a la Smile-era Beach Boys and Os Mutantes) with krautrock analog pranksterism (a la Faust), Harry Smith-style folk-and-blues omniverousness, Nuggetlicious directness of melody, Who-like passion, and a certain Beefheart-doing-Gilbert-and-Sullivan-ness that I'd never even previously imagined possible, all in a multi-part epic about pirates. Yowza! What a great time to be a fan of rock music! Heck, I'm going to put that on when this MF Doom cd winds up.

I just checked to see if Allmusic had a review up for it yet, and they do (by the great Heather Phares, who's rapidly becoming one of my favorite music writers) so here goes:

Overflowing with creativity and energy and fueled by a cheery restlessness, the Fiery Furnaces are perhaps the most charmingly difficult rock band in years. Most acts wait a few albums to unleash their rock operas and concept albums, but just as their brilliant first album, Gallowsbird's Bark, felt like it contained several albums' worth of ideas and melodies (that often sounded like they were playing at once), the Fiery Furnaces skip ahead and deliver the fascinating, vaguely conceptual, and only occasionally frustrating Blueberry Boat less than a year after they released their debut. The band packs even more stuff into these 13 songs, nearly all of which have distinct movements that sound like two or three times as many tracks. Stories about pirates, Spain, a love triangle, a girl kidnapped into white slavery, World War I, making music, and (of course) blueberries are surrounded by strange noises and experimental twists that act like funhouse mirrors, stretching and warping the album's essentially simple melodies until they're about to fall apart. At times, Blueberry Boat sounds like it was made entirely out of the noodly bits that most other bands would junk for being too weird and difficult, but the Fiery Furnaces forge them into an album that's both more pop and more radical than Gallowsbird's Bark. Granted, it's not a total change from the band's previous material: the revamped, psychedelic dance-pop version of "Tropical Ice-Land" and the cover of the Fall's "Winter" on the Rough Trade comp Stop Me if You Think You've Heard This One Before... foreshadowed Blueberry Boat's busy, mischievous sound, and Gallowsbird's Bark's medley-like "Inca Rag/Name Game" and "Tropical Ice-Land/Rub-Alcohol Blues/ We Got the Plague" suggested that the band really wanted to make multifaceted epics that stretch out to ten minutes or thereabouts (of which there are four on this album).

The rootless, rambling, travelogue feel of their debut remains, but Blueberry Boat feels more like a breakneck tour through different kinds of music — around the canon in 80 minutes. The preponderance of keyboards, drum machines, samples, loops, and computer manipulation draw on electronica, new wave, and prog influences, giving the album a sparkly, colder sonic palette that feels like an equal and opposite reaction to the earth-toned garage-folk-blues of Gallowsbird's Bark (although elements of that sound remain and are thrown in for good measure). The bright, bold title track — the tale of the hapless captain of a blueberry boat beset by pirates — is one of the most striking examples of the album's new sounds: starting with a busy signal-like glitch loop backed by a faux hip-hop beat, the song quickly shifts to a wheezy, shuffling rhythm and steep slide guitars; carnival organs make way for relatively down-to-earth guitars, pianos, and keyboards before beginning all over again. As the captain, Eleanor Friedberger goes down with the ship and her blueberries, and this kind of perversely stubborn bravery mirrors the band's fearless artistic leaps.

Even more than their debut, Blueberry Boat reveals the Fiery Furnaces' modus operandi: rather than be defined by a certain set of sounds, it's their attitude and approach that make them what they are. They disorient their listeners and then charm them, or charm them by disorienting them; fortunately, because their music actually is pretty charming, this tactic usually works. At their best, the Fiery Furnaces' albums feel like the adventures of the Friedberger siblings; the personality displayed in their songs gives their flights of fancy just enough grounding. Eleanor's voice is as aloof and, er, fiery as ever, although she sounds downright gentle on "Turning Round." Meanwhile, Matthew Friedberger sings more on Blueberry Boat, and his quieter delivery makes a striking contrast to his sister's more attention-getting vocals. Yet at times they sound almost like the same person, especially on the strangely singsongy melody of "Quay Cur," one of many songs with lyrics as insanely detailed as the sounds that surround them. On top of the many allusions and references in the album — which include Beanie Babies, Sir Robert Grayson, OxyContin, and Damascus computer cafes — nonsense phrases like "you geeched that gazoon's gow" fill out more than a few songs. You could say that the Friedbergers' stream-of-consciousness approach nearly reaches Joyce levels, but that would be pretentious, and while Blueberry Boat might seem pretentious on paper, in execution it's just playfully brainy. Indeed, the whole album offers plenty of food for thought and many intriguing contradictions: the delightful "Birdie Brain" rails against the march of progress and technology (and antiquated technology, like steam trains and livery cars, at that) against a backdrop of twinkly synths straight out of the PBS astronomy show Star Hustler.

More broadly, Blueberry Boat's mix of quick changes and extended length sounds like it was made for and by people with highly developed long and short attention spans; it's an album of children's songs for adults. Nowhere is this blurring of youth and maturity more apparent than on "Chief Inspector Blancheflower." It begins as an odd little story about a boy unable to concentrate long enough to get good grades but with a sharp focus for details like "tickets, tangibles, chips and stars." Matthew Friedberger's lead vocal is backed by a tweaked, babyish one, mimicking the song's flashback lyrics. It's a clever trick, and at times, the album threatens to wallow in its own wittiness, but every now and then there's a briefly emotional moment that's more powerful than an entire ballad would be; the instrumental coda at the end of "Blancheflower

On a totally other note, and I suspect only Hec will care, but Wendy James has a new record (her first since 1993) on the way: [link]

Beefheart-doing-Gilbert-and-Sullivan-ness

Zoot Horn Mikado? DrumPeep-Bo? Trout Mask Pinafore? Three fast and bulbous maids are we?

On a totally other note, and I suspect only Hec will care, but Wendy James has a new record (her first since 1993) on the way: >[link]

You've got to admire a gal who wrote to Elvis Costello begging him to write songs for her new album because nobody takes her seriously - and then he sent her an album's worth.

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Hey, Kim Cooper's upcoming book made the Pitchfork news: [link]

Zoot Horn Mikado? DrumPeep-Bo? Trout Mask Pinafore? Three fast and bulbous maids are we?

I wish I could legitimately name my band Trout Mask Pinafore.

This

As the captain, Eleanor Friedberger goes down with the ship and her blueberries

cracked me up.

That pitchfork article plugs "Lost on the grooves" as well as her NMH book. Cool!

"Dig it up" was on the Hoodoo Gurus' 1984 debut album Stoneage Romeos.

Which also has one of my favorite 3-minutes minus songs, "I Wan't You Back"

I've been spending the morning catching up on some recent purchases. Eno's first four albums? Still the BOMB. The new Wilco? Really fucking good. The latest David Sylvian? Like the Japan reissues, sublime. Next up, the new Cure and Beastie Boys (but possibly not until after the weekend since I am heading up to Maine at some point, and stereo access is limited).

That pitchfork article plugs "Lost on the grooves" as well as her NMH book. Cool!

I thought so!

Which also has one of my favorite 3-minutes minus songs, "I Wan't You Back"

Yeah, that record is a pop masterpiece. As is the followup that Jon favors, Guitars on Mars.