For those of you who may be turned off by The Album Leaf's presence on The O.C.: Mix 2, consider this -- the band has also opened for Sigur Rós.
These guys are a little more than Orange County and a little less than Iceland, or maybe it's the other way around. They're mellow, but not angsty. There's a tundra-like chill, but at least they speak English. They are more peaceful than Keane but less weird than Of Montreal. Lead singer Jimmy LaValle's voice falls somewhere between Death Cab for Cutie's Ben Gibbard and The Presets' Julian Hamilton.
Into The Blue Again, Album Leaf's fourth album, is mostly instrumental. Out of 10 tracks, only three include vocals. "Always For You" is the most articulated and forceful song on the CD. Listeners accustomed to louder sounds will be drawn to this track, since it is strained with anxiety but remains clear. "It was always for you/ Always for you / Always for you," the chorus reminds. The words paint rich pictures -- "In front of temples I've stood / Before the ocean I prayed," LaValle sings movingly.
"Writings On The Wall" is repetitive at first but develops into detail. It takes some effort to get past the high violin and metallic percussion, but a story emerges unexpectedly. "Through this journey we can see / All the trees, the changing leaves." There is a couple, there is travel, and there is a desire to hide. It's not entirely clear what the writings are -- perhaps the premonition of an ending relationship. The song, like much of the album, demands introspection. "Close our eyes this time / it's all inside."
Those who are familiar with Album Leaf's earlier hit, "Eastern Glow," might be disappointed at not hearing LaValle's rich melancholic undertones on every track. That said, the saturating instruments on this album force a change in approach. This isn't a compilation of short stories that can stand alone without context. This is a daunting, chapter-less nonfiction. Upon first listen, the instrumental tracks sound like they could break into words at any second. There are empty promises in those piano modulations.
In the documentary about the making of Into The Blue Again, LaValle says the album was supposed to convey happiness. He also says he understands that his listeners might not hear that.
If there's a happiness in this album, it's a strange and twisted one. The echoes of the piano keys in "Wishful Thinking" sound like early mornings on empty streets shrouded in mist. The chirping electronic tones in "Broken Arrow" are undoubtedly crickets. As the electronic noise of the last track dies out to a low hum, the last quiet piano notes never resolve.
Into The Blue Again is not something you want to listen to on a treadmill at the AFC. It is not explicitly uplifting or energetic. (You probably wouldn't be able to hear it over the noise there, anyway.) But you might play this album at a get-together with your elite indie friends where you'd discuss the Far East, or maybe coffee brands.