For the Record 9/30/10

Artist |Frankie Rose & the Outs

Album |Hollow Life

I was surprised listening to the first track off Frankie Rose’s most recent project — surprised that perhaps Frankie is past the stylized lo-fi noise that has defined her storied yet short musical career.

In fact, I felt that “Hollow Life” might lead to a new dream pop vision for the ex-Vivian Girl and Crystal Stilt. Indeed, the lo-fi style — defined by its ability to retrofit the essence of ‘60’s psychedelic pop, early punk, and highly affected shoe-gaze into something progressive — is bloated with too many acts. So, as an artist, I thought Rose might try to break away from now derivative sounds and try something innovative. Unfortunately, the album does not work hard enough to distance itself from the subset of a subset of a genre that I think is going out of vogue.

Right after their slow, breathy, harmonically driven opener, Frankie Rose and the Outs charge into “Candy.” The melodic “oh’s” carry into this tune, making for a soft and epic chorus, though the rest of the song subscribes to 60’s girl-band pop — didactic lyrical delivery, deliberate guitar strums and aggressive drums.

I don’t mean to say that girl-band pop is boring or unwelcome; rather, this particular song borrows too much from one style, and, in the process, loses originality. “Girlfriend Island,” however, distorts guitars to shoe-gaze fuzz, and, coupled with the adrenaline from Rose’s beats and the melodic lyrics, the song works as a fresh pop anthem.

Other songs break from the more formulaic pop structure, using layering to achieve mood changes. For example, “Memo” starts with a drippy, reverb laden, and delayed guitar only to transition to a choral croon drowned in roaring guitar effects, organ dreaminess and rumbling bass and drums. Though the build-ups are simple, the tune shows off some artistic vision. Other songs, however, like “Little Brown Haired Girls,” don’t achieve these build-ups as effectively with the technicalities of the songwriting lost in lo-fi noise.

Some of the more successful songs on the album include “Don’t Tred.” Starting with a sonorous frontier blues riff, the tune reeks of pure badass angst. And the lyrics are drowned in reverb, emphasizing the wall of sound — the large presence, the apathetic yet horrifying attitude. Another highlight, “Lullabye for Roads and Miles,” with its inaudible whispered lyrics, is one of the most beautiful songs on the album. The organ, simple percussion, and gentle guitar mix well with the soft harmonies — creating an ethereal, dream-pop sensation.

Though Frankie Rose and the Outs experiment with melodic harmonies to add dreaminess to Rose’s previous lo-fi tendencies, the self-titled debut album is too heavily stylized to listen to repeatedly. That is, on a first listen, the noise — the 60’s, garage-rock ethos — sounds cool and retro. However, after a few spins, the excitement of the girl-band pop wears off. In fact, the artful haze only works to initially catch the listener’s attention, but after a few tracks, I find myself longing for more careful songwriting that isn’t drowned out in the wall of sound. For this reason, I go back to the simple, beautiful tracks — “Hollow Life” and “Memo,” for instance — over the fast paced 60’s pop jingles.