Contributed By: Joanna Ester
Created On: Sunday, 08 June 2008
Hits: 146
 Fleet Foxes The harmonies of the vocals are perfect and linger on gospel influences and occasionally (as on White Winter Hymnal or Oliver James) take a spiritual form. There are liberal sprinklings of flute, banjo and accordion throughout to give a sense of a band that are at odds with the 21st Century, one that can easily be imagined touring in a caravan pulled by some sturdy horses, even before the oil runs out. If all of this sounds a little po faced, it shouldn't. This is a celebration of how music can fill hearts with joy. If at times the themes are a little on the heavy side, Fleet Foxes still manage to make them sound like soothing lullabies. This could be the closest this generation gets to its own Pet Sounds. A stunning debut then, and one that will make Fleet Foxes one of the most sought after bands of the year.
For all the album's winding paths and unexpected vistas, Fleet Foxes' harmonies remain the primary draw, and they've written and arranged these songs to showcase their shared vocals. "Heard Them Stirring" has no lyrics, but it's hard to call it an instrumental. Against a shuffling shaker-and-tambourine rhythm, "Ragged Wood" switches between Robin Pecknold's lead vocals and the band's harmonies after each verse, effectively translating classic rock via folk elements. There's as much Fleetwood Mac as the Band in the song's rousing finale. On the other hand, Fleet Foxes do restraint just as well: "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song" features only a lone acoustic guitar and Pecknold's forceful vocals, which switch to a spooky falsetto on the outro.
Vocals play such a primary role in Fleet Foxes' music that Pecknold's lyrics at times sound like merely a delivery system for harmonies, with references to meadowlarks, rising suns, and streams bolstering the rural and placeless evocations. However, these are ultimately carefully and well-crafted compositions. On "White Winter Hymnal", a firelit roundelay that best showcases the band's vocal interplay, the lyrics convey strange, almost Edward Gorey-like imagery: "I was following the pack/ All swallowed in their coats/ With scarves of red tied 'round their throats/ To keep their little heads from falling in the snow/ And I turned 'round and there you go." Who knows exactly what the words mean, but the fairy-tale menace comes through in full color, and Peterson's floor-tom beat and the intricacy of the band's harmonies dispel the threat without diluting the mystery.
 
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