Sincerely, Severely
Posted on 14. Sep, 2009 by Travis Pillow in Culture
The cover of "Sincerely, Severely", the latest album from Gainesville's Morningbell
The first thing you’ll notice about Morningbell’s Sincerely, Severely is the face of it. The cover art is tasteful – classy and clean. In a no-nonsense manner, on a blacker than black background, you find the essential information in weathered calligraphic lettering and three smiling skulls.
At least initially, this all suggests death.
But the music places you somewhere else. The music drives you far, far away from the stillness of a burial mound.
Perhaps the artwork puts you in a Mexican desert, and just maybe the bright colors lapping at the album’s back cover are a side effect of cactus-derived psychedelics.
The psychedelia of Sincerely, Severely, Morningbell’s fourth full-length album, lies in the schizophrenic nature of the songs. Though the majority of the songs could be considered all over the place, the collection of tracks is steadfast in dance-ability and in the capability of the Gainesville musicians – Travis Atria on guitar and vocals, Eric Atria on bass and theremin, Chris Hillman on drums, and Stacie Thrushman on keyboard.
The album plays like a radio station that mixes the hits of yesterday and today. But Sincerely, Severely is more mature, more alive than most radio; it’s as cohesive as one band’s private pirate radio station could be.
What Morningbell accomplishes isn’t easy. You can’t just throw every musical genre in the kitchen into a blender and expect it to be delicious. The band shifts lithely between the sound and sensibility of specific genres, or fuses them together into a mouth-watering pop pizza.
From an objective stance, it could be said that Morningbell’s method is akin to that of Naked City, or Mr. Bungle for that matter, but yielding a flavor entirely different. Sincerely, Severely is marked by movement, and little time is wasted.
The 14 songs clock in at just about 48 minutes.
“Let’s Not Lose Our Heads” opens the album strongly with its rich percussion. By the time you notice the hand claps, you know there’s a good time to be had. It serves to showcase their versatility and their ability to play or not to play (each when appropriate).
“Hello, Dali” has a dramatic string flourish like the theme of a foreign soap opera with some delicate slices of soul.
Immediately following, “Soul Ma’am” is a breakdancer’s dream with its feel-good refrain, a solid horn line and a little slide guitar. Then later in the second half comes “King Mango Strut,” something like a standard T. Rex boogie but injected with loads of soul.
Also notable is “Stay in the Garden,” which features some thrilling clarinet/trumpet interplay, a fantastic upright bass performance and some very tasteful organ work. Mix in a bottle of gin and a few packs of cigarettes, and you have a song Tom Waits would tip his hat to.
The second half of the album, which contains the longer songs, becomes tinged with expansive synthesized sounds.
“Good Morning, I’m Here” has an angelic, watery soundscape about it, with its tight drumming and a refrain that would make Bruce Springsteen instinctively grab a Telecaster and wander on stage.
The album ends nicely with “It Was All Mondays,” where you may find yourself in the desert again, in a psuedo-western scene, watching the red sky drain as the sun settles in behind a distant chain of mountains. For a little while a sleepy cinematic scene, but the peyote poppers aren’t quite through; once again, you’re reminded of where you are, nicely parellelling the opening track.
But even if that’s not your thing at all, the production is exquisite. The majority of the songs are richly layered sonically, often incorporating brass or strings, appropriately layered guitars, additional percussion – everything in its right place. High fidelity, crystal clear.
