US Midwestern duo THE BELLES were already sounding like low-key stars-in-waiting when their debut EP "(Who Will Be) Here To Hear" slipped out to quiet acclaim last autumn. Based in sleepy, yet artistically-vibrant Lawrence, Kansas, theirs was a downbeat, yet intriguing semi-acoustic sound, with telling hooks and a nice line in intelligent, slightly fatalistic lyrics from frontman/ songwriter Christopher Tolle.
Such 'where-the-hell-did-that-come-from?' releases are always exciting, but potentially disappointing events, when a fine opening salvo evaporates on contact when said promising band/ artist weighs in with an underwhelming album a little further down the line. However, The Belles prove themeselves to be one of the rare exceptions to the lateral thinking with "Omerta": a debut album of deceptively gentle, but edgy songwriterly intent that categorically proves that debut EP was anything but a fluke.
Recorded in very close-miked fashion in the studio, the sound is generally at least semi-acoustic and extremely live, with Tolle's vocals right upfront and Jake Cardwell's drums right there in the room with you. It's too well recorded to be "lo-fi" as such, though it IS a sound that works beautifully on relatively low wattage, with Tolle playing mostly acoustic rhythm guitar and bass, with other embellishments kept to a spare, but telling minimum.
More importantly, though, "Omerta" is wall to wall with great songs. "(Who Will Be) Here To Hear", "Victory Parade" and the slow, Mark Kozelekian "These Things Will Kill Me" are all recalled from the EP, but however notable all these are - with the world-weary "(Who Will Be...)" and the shimmering emotions of "Victory Parade" every bit as impressive as on first listen - they're by no means the best things here.
Actually, if you're asking me to choose favourite tracks, then just about everything here will be lining up on identity parade, because "Omerta" is a deliciously consistent debut. Opening with the surprising, and all-too-brief, Beach Boys-style sliver of "So, I Sing", Tolle and Cardwell's quiet genius soon opens out to include gorgeous songs like the regretful, Dodgy-meet-Marshall Crenshaw (with bells on - literally!) of new single "Never Said Anything"; the understated, sublime pop of the title track and the magnificent "Estranged", which is beautifully sleepy in an Evan Dando stylee and just IS bloody brilliant without even seemingly trying.
|
However, while much of "Omerta" swings by like a warm summer breeze, in places The Belles also display the ragged orneriness of their heroes Neil Young and Paul Westerberg. "Liquid Breakfast", for instance, is a great, dog-eared almost-rocker, whilst in "His Undoing, Was His Undoing" they have a title Bill Callahan would love and a jerky, nervy track with a kiss-off line ("Let's put some distance between us") he'd be wringing his hands for. By comparison, they can also strip it back to the barest of bones and still be intoxicating, like on the closing "A Thousand Ships", where Tolle is all alone with his guitar and singing typically fatalistic stuff like: "The jukebox becomes my only friend again" over motifs recalling early REM. Favourably, I might add.
So there you have it. In its' purest, most untouched form, rock'n'roll's still capable of giving the unsung heroes a chance to sneak in around the margins, and in The Belles we have two unassuming characters from apparent nowheresville who have turned in a debut of nonchalent genius away from the glare. I'm going to have to disagree with the album title, though. Usually a Mafioso term, it means "vow of silence." Well sorry, but where The Belles are concerned, I wanna make as much noise as possible.
|
