The folks at the Canadian Heritage Ad-Campaign Committee would have you believe that Newfoundland is a place where its inhabitants (Newfies) hang out with the ranks of peculiar Italian inventors in their spare time and develop wireless technology (you know, because they have so much time on their hands out there in Eastern nowhere). What really happens there (according to stereotypes and strict hearsay) is this commune of cod-kissing friendlies — seafaring folk who'll invite you into their small hobbit-like homes and teach you a thing or two about a 'ting or tree'. It's a province where concepts of Screech is not one found on Saved By The Bell, but consumed; where families stay up all night with mandolins and get drunk and then call themselves, Great Big Sea. It's a place devoid of all seriousness, one without order, occupations or the strains of moody indie-rock... Well, nearly all of that is true.
Hey Rosetta! a six-piece out of St. John's, NFLD are making it difficult for those eager to file them under the 'celtic-folk/rock' cliche by offering something strangely different than their postal code suggests. And although the tiny populous of their home town would usually have Tim Baker (vocals/guitar/piano) and camp following suit and producing 'ditties' - lest we forget that Eastern Canada has a rich history when it comes to all things 'indie-rock' and is probably due for a heritage commercial itself.
Haligonians, Sloan began their career as My Bloody Valentine enthusiasts and were shoegazers long before they found the Beatles; Moncton's basement dwellers, Eric's Trip were more lo-fi than Steve Malkmus's armpit hair, yet Seattle still came calling; and then there's fellow Newfoundlanders Hardship Post who created enough angsty rock that they ditched their stay at the shire and moved to Halifax to gain more attention during the Pop Explosion era. So it shouldn't come as a shock that a band like HR! should not only exist in the East Coast, but should make the Polaris shortlist for their album, Into Your Lungs (and around your heart and on through your blood).
The album creeps and meanders to life much like A Ghost is Born did for Wilco - slow and calculated with the isolated singer introducing his tale. The difference here is that instead of a listless Jeff Tweedy warning us about the affects of spousal abuse, we have singer, Baker, slightly more alert, setting up what sounds like a plan for escape: "it's time to go/what's to come only fate can show/see her move like a toreador/wielding her cloak and sword." That's not to say that HR! resembles or sounds like Wilco, but they do tread similar enigmatic waters and rootsy origins, and take severe musical turns when necessary. "New Goodbye" introduces the blueprint for Into Your Lungs, which thematically runs the gamut as far as "life experiences" are concerned, but instead of sounding preachy or philosophical about the band's current or past revelations, Baker seems to project a celebratory reaction to all that comes before him, "but often it happens you know, that things you don't trust are the ones you need most," croons Baker on the album's finale, "Psalm."
HR! mostly succeeds with their strong musical interplay and ability to shift dynamics within a song without making it seem too mathy. Lungs teeters between emotionally charged rockers like the Veils-esque, "I've Been Asleep for a Long, Long Time," to sorrowful weepers like "Open Arms" which would not sound out of place on a Win Butler solo record. (And no, it's not a Journey cover). Elsewhere we have the back-to-back offering of "Black Heart" and "Red Heart" with the latter being the standout between the two and the wistful piano ballad, "Tired Eyes" are just some of the gems that can be heard on the hour-long disc. Oh, and they don't totally alienate their brethren as there's enough fiddles and whatnot to keep them safe on Grandma's Christmas list.
If there's any one complaint it would have to be the amount of music to sift through because we all know our new shuffle-society seems to struggle with anything of grand proportions these days. There's a lot to digest here, but the good part about decent music is that it eventually finds the right hands/ears, gets heard, and thankfully the right people were listening.
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