Pictured: The Whitest Boy Alive rock serenely, and only in soft lighting.
I realize that I’m breaking a cardinal indie rock review rule right now. As I type this, this cd has been available for exactly 1 year, and 1 week. Even if we figure in the fact that this cd was released in Europe (WBA are Berlin based), I’m still a good six months behind the curve on this one. I’m a hulking brute, a heavy handed dinosaur.
That being said, when a friend played this in her car a few days ago, I had the first song off the album stuck in my head until I could get home and get my hands on it. It’s a prototype minimalist-pop dance song that fits equal parts awkward white boy dance and wind blown carelessness. It’s a measured intensity that contains itself throughout the track, but is by no means subdued.
The whole album plays out much the same way. This is the side project of Erlend Oye, best known for being one half of the Kings of Convenience. There’s plenty of sameness on here, but it’s the good sort of sameness that can give you continuity while you jog, row, bike, or whatever. Oye’s reed-thin voice is soft and sure, and never goes too high or too low. In the end what makes WBA great could also earn them a spot on the bench in your itunes after repeated and repeated and repeated listenings.
But why are you worried about the future? The future will worry about itself. Listen, dance softly, wear comfy socks, enjoy cool evenings. Moi? Je suis contente.
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