Beginning with an arc of distant, echo-laden strings and a chorus of voices that sound as if they escaped from the buried and decaying reels of an aborted
Disney
film,
Richard Swift
's
Secretly Canadian
debut paints a world out of time from the very first note. The West Coast singer/songwriter has no qualms about resurrecting
Franks Wild Years
-era
Tom Waits
and filtering it through the "new weird America" sound of fellow crooners
Andrew Bird
and
Devendra Banhart
, but he manages to find the perfect balance between melody and texture. It's a lot like opening the doors to a packed speakeasy in the '30s, complete with choreographed dancing and well-coiffed but shady characters shaking hands in the corners.
Swift
lo-fi
,
Tin Pan Alley
dreamscapes are as lush as they are distant, relying on everything from barroom piano to programmed drums without ever seeming contemporary. Comprised of two records, 2001's
Walking Without Effort
and 2004's
The Novelist
has taken all of the best sepia-tone instrumental moments from
Michael Penn
and tenderized them into a hobo dinner with
Ray Davies
slinging the slop. Listeners will find themselves enchanted, disturbed, and speaking in metaphors for days. ~ James Christopher Monger