Au Revoir Simone Issue #32

The Bird of Music

By John Everhart
Published: June 1st, 2007 | 12:00am

Emblematic of an ethereal, fey, and minimalist ethos that finds its forebears in the likes of Young Marble Giants and Stereolab, Brooklyn’s Au Revoir Simone have been an unlikely success story, one that’s been most notable to date for catching the ear of a celebrity fan in director David Lynch. On The Bird of Music, the trio’s second full-length, the production and performances are top notch and unorthodox (three keyboards and a drum machine), but unfortunately serve to coat a gauzy sheen over a young band still in flux, one that has yet to discover a solid identity or the songwriting chops commensurate with its impressive sound.

Texture trumps songcraft throughout the largely insipid first half of the record, as the band struggles to find its footing. The plodding analog drone of “Sad Song” and the obviously Spector-inspired drum pattern of “A Violent Yet Flammable World” sound especially listless and fatigued, while the brazenly twee opener “The Lucky One” is the nadir and ineffectual as it overreaches in a Flaming Lips–like endeavor for universal connection. It ends up just sounding trite in its rote sing along of “Let the sunshine come / To show us that tomorrow is eventual.”

It’s on its more substantive latter half that the record gets interesting and redeems itself significantly. The shimmering “Night Majestic” subtly cops the melody of the Cure’s “Inbetween Days,” while the playful “Dark Halls” has a resolutely ’80s synth-pop feel with its dramatic bursting oscillations. The darkly ambient “Lark” is most impressive, pulsating with the ascetic minimalism of Brian Eno circa Music for Airports. It’s these three disparate tracks that best illustrate the group’s ample charm. Let’s see if they can sustain it for a full album next time around.