Call it Americana, alt-country, folk-rock, or beyond category, but
San Francisco’s Or, the Whale has its own sound while drawing on the
wellsprings of American country and folk music. If the Whale could be
likened to other bands, it’d be the Byrds circa Notorious Byrd
Brothers and Sandy Denny-era Fairport Convention, two other
legendary units that channeled “roots” strains in new and exciting
ways. Like the former, Or, the Whale integrates aspects of country
music (banjo, pedal steel guitar, loping tempos, etc.) without ever
coming off overtly “country”; like the latter, alternating
straightforward male vocals with lovely female singing (Lindsay
Garfield’s cool alto evokes Denny and Sally Timms), achingly plaintive
harmonies, and tight, restrained ensemble playing, and all inspired by
traditional British and American folk music, putting its own
distinctive spin on it.
Where their first album, Light Poles and Pines, had lilting
melodies, twang, and poppy hooks, this Whale is a somewhat
different mammal. Most songs have leisurely, fractured, or melancholy
tempos, but there’s enough range and variety to keep you away from
Dullsville or Sorrowtown. Guitars (acoustic, electric, and pedal steel)
and keyboards provide accent and flourishes to their songs in a
judicious and artful fashion, while the vocals — alternating
Garfield’s, Julie Ann Thomasson’s sultry, slightly tart tones, Alex
Robbins’ weary yet resilient semi-drawl, and, oh, their
harmonies — are distinctively rich and emotionally expressive
without being over-the-top. Not up-and-at-’em listening, Or, the
Whale is a magnificent piece of work for
wondering-where-it-all-went-wrong moods. (Seany)
