WOODS – Sun and Shade

Woods release their third album in as many years with Sun and Shade via Woodsist on June 14^th. Woods have established themselves as a surprisingly consistent band, avoiding the pratfalls and missteps of many of their equally prolific contemporaries. But as the band continues to churn out good albums, when does “good” cease to be good enough, and what, in particular, separates Sun and Shade from their other albums? Chris joins me for the dialectic.

Brandon: This is Woods’ third album in as many years. I really loved 2009’s Songs of Shame, which was officially their third album, but the first that garnered them any widespread attention. The song “Rain On,” in particular, was a showstopper and continues to find its way onto many of my more melancholy mixes. Though, who am I kidding? All of my mixes are melancholy. They followed Songs of Shame with At Echo Lake, which, if you haven’t spent time with this album, yet, Chris, you need to. There’s not a bad song on it. In fact, I would say a majority of the songs are actually really catchy, as in you find yourself humming them while you walk to the grocery store or clip your toenails or wash your armpits. And now they give us Sun and Shade. For me, the most surprising thing about this album is that it’s good.

What I mean is, I liked Songs of Shame. I liked its jangly, folky, AM-radio home grown goodness. I liked the mix of avant-garde art rock and sunshine 60s pop which occasionally sounded a bit like Neil Young doing guest vocals on an early Crystals’ track. But it seemed slight and ultimately innocuous. Bands of their lo-fi, punk aesthetic tend to be prolific but not often consistent, which is to say, only occasionally good. So they gave me Songs of Shame, and then I sat on At Echo Lake without listening to it for months. I really didn’t have very high expectations for it. But when I finally gave it some time, I was stunned. Their sound hadn’t really changed — they did away with some of their more experimental tendencies — but their delightful song craft only seemed to improve in its structure and focus. The songs were better, to be blunt. It was like a full album of “Rain On.”

So, like, how good could Sun and Shade be? Again, their sound hasn’t really changed, though they did return to entertaining their more experimental muses. And honestly, when they’re not giving me 17 minutes of avant-garde experimentation, their songs continue to be excellent, carrying in their tone the artifacts of another era. Small, sweet, unassuming gems that, three years running, continue to be delightful.

But, Chris, let’s get down to brass tacks. I want to know, what do you think of their two experimental tracks, the seven minute “Out of the Eye” and the 10 minute “Sol y Sombra?” I have two words for them: “next button.”

Chris: Are you asking the guy who danced around his apartment to “Out of the Eye” at a volume appropriately deemed “too loud” for midnight?  I plead “couldn’t help it.”

You’ve got it right, Brandon.  Sun and Shade is a lovely album.  The moment I put it on, I was enjoying it, transported back in time to a place where not washing was acceptable and everyone was your sister and brother.  It has landed at a perfect time. Summer is beginning. You’d be a fool not to blast this album in a car careening towards the beach. However, what makes the album for me, some ten or so listens in, are those two sprawling and ambitious tracks, “Out of the Eye” and “Sol y Sombra.” You call them experimental. Back in the day, I believe they were called “jams.” I’m instantly reminded of Credence Clearwater Revival, the Doors, Grateful Dead. You’ve obviously accepted the 60’s aesthetic, so be warned. These guys are no She and Him. They aren’t creating loving homages or throwbacks. I believe these guys are rooted deep in the music of the time, seeing what they can bring to the present and tinker with. The pop songs here are downright efficient in their good-timery. You can’t expect all that poppy goodness without getting a taste of the experimental track running through that era.

Brandon: Blech! Those two songs “make the album” for you!? The album is OK, but in spite of those songs, not because of them. The only time I enjoyed listening to them was when I wasn’t paying attention. I suppose if you live in an area where you have scenic drives and would like to score said drive with ambient music, they might do the trick. In fact, they’re not bad, per se. Even Mark Richardson spent almost all of his review for P4K examining them. But boring? Yes. Yes, they are.

OK. Do me a favor. I really want you to listen to At Echo Lake, and maybe even Songs of Shame. They’re short albums and you don’t have to do a full examination. Just a single pass should do. What I want to know is, why pick up Sun and Shade in lieu of them? If I’m in the mood to listen to Woods, why should I reach for Sun and Shade instead of either of the other two?

My favorite song on Sun and Shade is the melancholy closer, “Say Goodbye.” But there’s nothing I can say about that song – catchy, emotive melody, Graham Nash inspired folk pop – that I can’t say about Songs of Shame’s “Rain On,” or At Echo Lake’s “Death Rattles,” though I could say a lot more about those songs. Even their experimental foray on At Echo Lake – “From the Horn” – is condensed into an easily consumable two minutes and five seconds.

This album features a lot more sunny, shimmery 60s pop guitar rock. The beach allusion you made is right on point. But I wonder if that’s all it offers? Is this the price of consistency? There’s not a lot to dislike about Sun and Shade, but it is neither a far enough departure from nor any sort of improvement on their prior output.

I guess what it comes down to is that I just like the songs on the other albums better. Even though these are fine.

Chris: So what we’ve created here is an math problem. You’ve come at this album, knowing some of the Woods’ catalog, and see an “OK” album. Personally, Sun and Shade was my first stop on the Woods train. After numerous listens, I found myself compelled by the moody dichotomy of pop instrumentation, melancholy lyrics and menacing streak that (quite literally) runs underneath the music. Say what you like, but “boring?” Put on “Out of the Eye,” easily the more accessible and playful of the experiments, and let go. Dance. This is tribal, animalistic stuff.  The bass line is killer. Maybe I’ve done too many drugs in my day, or just the right amount, but they strike a groove that hasn’t been mined in some time. “Sol y Sombra” is more of a beast, and you nailed it, I fell in love with this song on a dusk drive along the freeway, but who cares. When music and movement spill together in a blissed-out celebration, I get a little smile on my face that says, “Yes.”

I said this “was my first stop” because I took your challenge. Thank you. At Echo Lake is a joyful masterpiece. Songs of Shame comes in around the same place as Sun and Shade so far. It’s solid, it entertains and personally, I like when they get weird. However, both albums pale in comparison to At Echo Lake.  That album is brutal in its efficiency. Hell, they even created a jam you like!

So here’s the equation: If two men approach the Woods’ catalog from equidistant sides of the same album, where do they stop? Answer: Everyone stops at the Lake.

In closing, mark my words. Woods will knock out an epic jam one day akin to Credence’s Ramble Tamble. I will see you there, my friend. I will be the guy wearing no shoes with a giant grin on his face.

Brandon: Speaking of Bonnaroo, why the hell is Eminem playing there? Do hippies like Eminem, now? When did that happen?