Artist：The Fiery Furnaces
Album：Gallowsbird's Bark
AMG:
Styles：Indie Rock
Label：Rough Trade/Sanctuary
Release Date：Sep 23, 2003

Review:

While the Fiery Furnaces arrived in a music scene teeming with bands formed by brothers and sisters (or, at least, by people who claim to be) and bands from New York, on their debut album, Gallowsbird's Bark, this brother-and-sister-led group from New York manages to avoid the pitfalls that those superficial similarities suggest. It's true that garage rock and post-punk form the foundations of the band's style, but the Fiery Furnaces' loose-limbed music also incorporates folk, blues, and music hall, setting them worlds apart from the stylish, often jaded sounds of their fellow New Yorkers. In fact, the band doesn't sound like it's from anywhere in particular. Gallowsbird's Bark's name and wonky twists and turns hint at a British influence, but at heart, the Fiery Furnaces are scavengers and vagabonds, with rambling songs about roaming (the album isn't decorated with imagery from maps for nothing). "Bright Blue Tie" is a whimsically detailed travelogue of Sweden, and although "Tropical Ice-Land" may not be an actual destination, its shimmering folk-pop makes it no less vivid. A sense of fun is also palpable on Gallowsbird's Bark, partly because Eleanor Friedberger sings lyrics like "I gave my cell phone to my cousin/He plays the threats that I get to his friends at school" like an elegant dare, and partly because the pianos that grace nearly every track emphasize their playful theatricality. Songs like "Inca Rag/Name Game" and "Bow Wow" have a strangely jolly, vintage flair, as though they're from some lost songbook from the turn of the century — although which century isn't exactly clear. Even when the Fiery Furnaces take turns toward the menacing, as on "Leaky Tunnel" and the paranoid, elliptically political album closer, "We Got Back the Plague," a dry wit runs through their songs that keeps them from being dour. Some of the album's best moments manage to be fun and menacing at the same time. The nervy "I'm Gonna Run" features a great distillation of on-the-job ennui ("Slit my wrists with my Swingline/Copied myself 500 times"), and "Don't Dance Her Down" could soundtrack a bar fight. While songs like "Crystal Clear" and "Two Fat Feet" sound dizzying and jumbled at first, eventually their gleeful chaos settles into something a little more orderly, but no less mischievous. A fantastic debut album that only gets richer and better with more listens, Gallowsbird's Bark is more fully formed and daring than most second or third albums from many bands. It's a work full of mysterious fun, and the fact that its oddly old sound makes it one of 2003's freshest albums is one of the least mysterious things about it.

文件过期:2006-10-05 12:22

文件提取码:9809761774840862

Artist：The Fiery Furnaces
Album：Blueberry Boat
AMG:
Styles：Indie Rock,Garage Rock Revival
Label：Rough Trade/Sanctuary
Release Date：Jul 13, 2004

Review:

Overflowing with creativity and energy, 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 Gallowsbird's Bark seemed to contain 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 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, and (of course) blueberries are surrounded by strange noises and 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: 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. Keyboards, drum machines, samples, loops, and computer manipulation abound, 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. 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 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.

The Fiery Furnaces 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, their albums feel like the adventures of the Friedberger siblings; Eleanor's voice is as aloof and, er, fiery as ever, although she sounds downright gentle on "Turning Round." Matthew Friedberger sings more on Blueberry Boat, and his quieter delivery makes a striking contrast to his sister's more attention-getting vocals. But sometimes they sound almost like the same person, especially on the strangely sing-songy 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 — dazzling, obscure wordplay 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, it's actually just playfully brainy. 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.

Blueberry Boat 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. This is especially apparent than on "Chief Inspector Blancheflower." It begins as a 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 drown 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" is one of these glimpses. The band also has a gift for making the strange sound familiar and the familiar sound strange: on "Chris Michaels" they pay homage to the Who, the past masters of rock operas and concept albums. Eleanor plays the emotive Roger Daltrey to Matthew's more reflective, pensive Pete Townshend, and the song's rapid-fire riffs, big pianos, and mix of stomping rock with plaintive interludes is pure Who — although the Who never wrote a rock opera that involves getting arrested for credit card fraud and escaping from the Bombay Army. But, fortunately, the Fiery Furnaces did. As engaging as the album can be, it's still a lot to digest; in the wrong mood, it can feel like too much time spent at the amusement park. Blueberry Boat can be appreciated in the same way you would a puzzle box with intricate, endlessly shifting parts: you can spend a lot of time trying to unlock (or describe) its riddles, or just enjoy the artfulness behind them.

文件过期:2006-10-05 12:58

文件提取码:8798759932446304

Artist：The Fiery Furnaces
Album：Rehearsing My Choir
AMG:
Styles：Indie Rock,Garage Rock Revival
Label：Rough Trade/Sanctuary
Release Date：Jul 13, 2004

Review:

For better or worse, Rehearsing My Choir — the Fiery Furnaces' collaboration with their grandmother, Olga Sarantos — is a family reunion set to tape: equally intimate and insular. It's not that the audience isn't invited to listen in, it's just that the Friedberger siblings and their grandma are so in their element that they don't necessarily notice when their listeners aren't following along. The album, which loosely interprets and embellishes some of Sarantos' memories of life in Chicago (using Eleanor's vocals as flashbacks and Sarantos' as the voice of experience) is easily their most challenging work yet. Interestingly, along with Sufjan Stevens' Illinois, it's also the second indie album in 2005 to explore Chicago and its environs. But while Illinois plays like a Fodor's Guide, Rehearsing My Choir is more like asking a local for directions or a recommendation for a really good pizza place and hearing bits and pieces of their life story along the way. Theoretically, Rehearsing My Choir's singular story should make it a more focused work than Blueberry Boat, but its rambling, stream-of-consciousness feel makes it even harder to get your bearings in the storytelling. Indeed, the album feels more like a radio play or an audio book than a collection of songs (and its liner notes may as well be a play program), and it pretty much demands to be listened to as a whole, at least the first few times. Musically, the album focuses on the Furnaces' signature pianos, which sound like they belong in a speakeasy, parlor, or melodramatic silent movie score, depending on the mood of any particular song. Mischievous, rag-tag melodies abound, especially on "Candymaker's Knife in My Handbag" and "Fortyeight Twentythree Twentysecond Street," which turns into deranged salsa halfway through. Sarantos' voice is strong and sardonic, while Eleanor has never sounded better, particularly on "Slavin' Away." Grandmother and granddaughter have some funny back-and-forth dialogue as past and present. On "The Wayward Granddaughter," Eleanor begins, "Once upon a time there were two Kevins," and Sarantos retorts, "You mean two jerks." And as difficult as the album can be, Rehearsing My Choir does have some fascinating stories to tell, especially when the memories mix with fantasy: "Guns Under the Counter" mentions a doctor who is also a donut maker, and repairs gunshot wounds with blackberry filling. "Seven Silver Curses," which recalls Blueberry Boat's longer tracks and is almost a story unto itself, finds Sarantos racing around town, gathering ingredients for a potion to tame her cheating husband. Still, it's easy to feel that the Fiery Furnaces are throwing way too much at their listeners with this album; it's probably not going to appeal to people who want their indie rock to have hooks, rousing choruses, or singalong melodies, and even some who loved Blueberry Boat might have a hard time getting into Rehearsing My Choir. The album cements the band as a love-them-or-hate-them proposition, but the Fiery Furnaces remain true to themselves.

文件过期:2006-10-05 12:43

文件提取码:0690652313844215

Artist：The Fiery Furnaces
Album：Bitter Tea
AMG:
Styles：Indie Rock,Garage Rock Revival
Label：Rough Trade/Sanctuary
Release Date：Apr 18, 2006

Review:

Initially intended to be the companion piece to their 2005 epic Rehearsing My Choir — aka "the grandmother album" — the Fiery Furnaces' Bitter Tea arrived half a year later and on a new label for the band, Fat Possum (where, presumably, the Friedbergers will keep company with the Black Keys as the blues imprint's fledgling indie rock colony). Concieved as a more youthful album of lovelorn songs to go along with Choir's voice of maturity, Bitter Tea is slightly less complicated than its would-be companion album; in fact, it features some of the band's catchiest songs since EP. "I'm Waiting to Know You" turns a moony, '50s-style ballad into slow-dance synth pop, while " Police Sweater Blood Vow" is warm, playful, and even a little sexy, and as straightforward as any song with "Vibrate buzz buzz ring and beep" as part of its chorus can be. However, this is a Fiery Furnaces album, and lest things get too poppy, some of Bitter Tea's best songs are shot through with lengthy passages of burbling synths. Both "Benton Harbor Blues," which features gorgeous vocals, a Motown-inspired bassline, and emotional but not overly sentimental lyrics, and "Teach Me Sweetheart," which could easily be a yearning power ballad along the lines of Yeah Yeah Yeahs' "Maps" in the hands of a more commercially minded band, both feel like thwarted pop singles.

Of course, part of the Fiery Furnaces' appeal from the beginning has been the way they screw with what could be very simple, almost ditty-like songs. However, on Bitter Tea the ways that they mess with their music aren't always as intriguing or memorable as what the songs could've been like if they were eccentric yet concise in the way that, say, Gallowsbird's Bark was. At times, the album feels oddly diluted, neither as strikingly experimental as Blueberry Boat or Rehearsing My Choir, nor as brilliantly catchy as their debut. And at 72 minutes, Bitter Tea is too long; the stories that it tells just aren't big enough to fill up all that space. Still this is a Fiery Furnaces album, and even if all the songs aren't uniformly great, there's something interesting about each of them: "I'm in No Mood" sounds a little like a fractured version of "Flight of the Bumblebee" performed by a haywire player piano; "Oh Sweet Woods" moves from a thumping dance beat to flowing acoustic guitars, then nods to Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean"; and, with its Asian-inspired melody, "Bitter Tea" itself is one of the more rambling, suite-like songs that works. Bitter Tea does indeed work well as a companion piece to Rehearsing My Choir, as well. The refrain of "once upon a time" in "Nevers" mirrors Choir's "Remember Then?," and "The Vietnamese Telephone Ministry" is a spooky, cryptic recitation of places and addresses along the lines of "Seven Silver Curses." Meanwhile, the backward vocals and instrumentation that make up one of Bitter Tea's main motifs could convey looking back on youth or rewinding time — or they could be there just because they sound really trippy. Anyone who enjoyed having their brains and ears rearranged by Blueberry Boat and Rehearsing My Choir should find Bitter Tea enjoyable, but at this point, it seems like the most challenging thing the Fiery Furnaces could do is trust their pop instincts a little more often.

文件过期:2006-10-05 12:35

文件提取码:1161123919341261

PS:The Fiery Furnaces玩的怪奇音乐怪的来即出奇地有新鲜感和悦耳,

其创意度之高,你在歌曲的开头绝对预计不到结尾