The Fiery Furnaces
I'm Going Away
(Thrill Jockey)
Throughout their career, The Fiery Furnaces have made a sport of frustrating expectations. They've released a series of defiantly complex and eccentric albums, including one sung by their grandmother and a live one stitched together from countless shows. Their latest is another curveball: A straight-ahead rock album. I'm Going Away is the band's most streamlined effort, an accessible mix of classic rock ballads and Dylan-ish blues swagger. They throw in some unusual wrinkles—the tempo changes in "Drive to Dallas," the jittery textures in "Charmaine Champagne"—but overall the songs are disarming in their catchiness and simplicity. It's nice to hear the Friedberger siblings reign in their excesses without losing their identity, but the irony is that, after several spins, these songs begin to seem overly thin. The Fiery Furnaces give the fans what they want (as they no doubt will at Pearl Street Nov. 5), only to make them wonder if they really wanted it after all. —Jeff Jackson
The Asylum Street Spankers
God's Favorite Band
(Yellow Dog)
Austin's Asylum Street Spankers serve up a reliably satisfying brand of old-school acoustic mayhem tempered by solid playing and the strange, pleasant '20s vocal style of Christina Marrs. God's Favorite Band finds the Spankers tackling primarily old gems rather than original compositions. The music spins with the retro energy of groups like the Squirrel Nut Zippers, but with a scrappier and lower tech vibe that seems to match the music perfectly. The record was recorded at a pub in Austin, but it's startling the first time you hear the audience crank up applause, thanks to the clean and often dead-on playing and singing. God's Favorite Band is a recording of a mighty fine party it's a shame to have missed. —James Heflin
The xx
xx
(XL Recordings)
The xx feature an unlikely trio of influences: The churning guitars of Joy Division, the spare precision of Young Marble Giants, and the slick American R&B of Rihanna and Aaliyaah. It's that last influence which makes the London quartet so noteworthy, giving their otherwise retro sound an unexpectedly seductive sheen. The sparse songs on xx are tuned like precision machines, every part carrying its weight, the guitars generating rhythms as often as the programmed beats. Singers Romy Madley Croft and Oliver Sim trade off laconic-but-intimate vocals, signifying soul without resorting to hysterics. Songs like "Islands" and "Shelter" are full of slow-boil intrigue that intensifies with repeated listens until even the small synth flourishes have a rattling impact. On "Crystalised," they warn "Go Slow," a phrase that could serve both as the band's manifesto and a word of advice to listeners approaching what's likely the debut of the year. —Jeff Jackson
