b r a n d o n

Here again we're presented with a project involving Nils Frykdahl (Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, Idiot Flesh) that defies easy description. Faun Fables is the project of Dawn McCarthy, with Frykdahl as an able sidekick; Family Album is an hour of weird, eclectic and often unsettling "folk" music (for lack of a better cubbyhole to stuff this into). Unlike another project with Frykdahl's fingerprints, Charming Hostess, McCarthy's project doesn't garner its unique status by blending an impossibly diverse set of ethnic folk musics into one; instead, McCarthy's brand of folk lives purely in its own world, a world built sturdily around her powerful, compelling voice. Family Album is nothing if not theatrical: McCarthy seems to slip into a different identity for each song, with her vocals ranging from the tenderness of "Joshua," dedicated to a friend's late son, to the creepily frenzied spirituality of "Higher," to the feminist-on-the-move tone of "Fear March." Backing her are Frykdahl's deep and equally theatrical vocals, as well as a generally sparse instrumental palette composed mostly of acoustic guitars, sporadic percussion, and the occasional bass and flute. The glue that holds this work together is the constant tension: the duo is apt to raise the intensity at the most unexpected times, which combined with consistently unsettling lyrics makes for a wonderfully wound-up mood that I've never quite experienced before from a "folk" record. Also of note is the fact that Frykdahl contributes three compositions, which if anything are even more stridently theatrical than McCarthy's, and two of which feature the chiming guitars and tension-building techniques that will immediately remind alert listeners of a stripped-down Sleepytime Gorilla Museum. Still, my favorites are McCarthy's pieces and her covers of obscure songs: for instance, the opening "Eyes of a Bird" sets the tone for the album with a slow, smoky guitar part behind McCarthy's intoxicating vocals and mysterious lyrics, the composition moving from an understated first half and building to a gradul frenzy. Elsewhere is the impossibly energetic "Carousel of Madonnas," based on a translation of a 1963 Polish folk song. This song centers around McCarthy's rapid-fire vocal lines, backed by a practically bouncy piano accompaniment and wildly stabbing, percussive flute courtesy of Frykdahl. Another highlight is the brief "Eternal," with the catchiest melody on the album, some bizarrely funny lyrics, a funky bass line, Frykdahl grunting rhythmically in the background, and all of it building to a satisfying crescendo of an ending. This remarkably eclectic album is all the more impressive for its ability to draw the listener into its weird musical world. McCarthy and Frykdahl are a formidable duo here; their world might be just a little too strange for most listeners, but the more explorative may well find themselves enchanted. review by Brandon Wu — 8-3-05 —