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Prints - Prints

Rating

RIYL

The Postal Service
Talking Heads
Death Cab for Cutie
The Dismemberment Plan

Tracklist

1. Easy Magic
2. Too Much Water
3. Pretty Tick
4. Meditation
5. Blue Jay
6. I Wanna Know
7. All We Knead
8. End

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Certain labels are known for releasing albums of a particular sound or genre — Equal Vision with emo-influenced post-hardcore and Nitro with skate-punk, for example — but some of the most interesting albums are those which deviate from their imprint’s norm. The debut self-titled release from Temporary Residence’s Prints fits this description, eschewing post-rock in favor of sunny, non-pretentious pop fare. Prints is the brainchild of Kenseth Thibideau (Sleeping People, Howard Hello, Pinback) and Zac Nelson (Who's Your Favorite Son God, Hexlove), and their collaboration certainly meets the expectations of their former projects. As clichéd and counterintuitive as it might sound, Prints excels because it feels like one eight-track pop song replete with handclaps, do-do-dos, and whimsical lyricism. Melodic themes trickle through multiple tracks, versatile songcraft abounds, and two stellar instrumentals mark the half and end of the album.

The record opens with “Easy Magic” in unabashedly cheesy form, establishing the trope of the call-and-response nonsense phrases “what oh what oh what oh whoa oh whoa” and “dutta dutta do do, do do do do.” As if this weren’t risky enough, the song centers around the lyrics “Is it easy if it’s magic” and also features lines like “radical mystery as right as snow / it melts, gives us spring.”

“Too Much Water” is the song Temporary Residence offers for free download on their website, and rightly so because it’s a great introduction to the band displaying whistling, more back-and-forth vocals, and the album’s characteristic misheard lyrics with the line “and float lucid” sounding like “and flow to the sea.” “Pretty Tick,” another highlight with its syncopated rhythm, organic electronics, and delicate acoustic guitar, also features the lyrical combination of the startlingly incongruous, as compared to the song’s canorousness, “there’s a pretty tick / suckin’ your blood and shit” and more, perhaps this time purposeful, tricky lyrics: “hare’s a rabbit / eating let us be” sounds like “there’s a rabbit/ eating lettuce leaf.” The song quickly segues into a short instrumental track which ends beautifully with echoing coughs peppering an ominous fadeout.

“Blue Jay,” which begins like a Jamiroquai number, may be the album’s highlight with its absolutely ridiculous groove. As bizarre as it might sound, the song’s opening lyrics of “scalpel in my hand / gonna cut my name write [possible liner note misprint, but who knows with these guys] in the sand” recalled Circle Takes the Square’s analogous lyrics from “Crowquill”: “I carve my initials in the bark with that feather I found.” When the flutes arrive on “Blue Jay,” though, you won’t find anything “puerile” about “meter and rhyme”; instead, you’ll instantly be on a beach, sippin’ a mojito, naked with a sensuous man or woman, ready to fall in love with the air, the rocks, the spume, and the way the lilt’s terroir makes your significant other smell like heaven.

“I Wanna Know” is just as bumping as “Blue Jay” with its faraway drums and lulling croons coruscating before any of the lyrics even begin. After this generous buildup, the real highlight is around 3:20 when one of the vocalists begins to scat like a man possessed. The cleverly titled “All We Knead” is a slower number which features actual water saturating the track; other than this, however, the song offers little else, and it’s fortunate that there’s an instrumental to conclude the album.

And what an instrumental it is with its cheesy, commencing prog rock synthesizer, bookending, distant “do do whup do do / do do do do,” and surging disco beat. Even if you’re a guy, you won’t be able to not shake what your mother gave you, and as those keyboard flashes stretch you just won’t want the song to end.

Bottom Line: If you love indie, be it mathy or straight pop, you won’t want to miss this unrestrained melody fest. Forget Mono, Temporary Residence has much more to offer.

--Stephen Chamberlain