Badly Drawn Boy Suffers Slump; Helms Piles on Post-Rock Layers

Badly Drawn Boy
Have You Fed the Fish?

Badly Drawn Boy never takes off his hat. Literally -- the brilliant British fusion of Beck and Elliott Smith is as known for the knit caps he ceaselessly sports as he is for his critically adored chamber pop medley.

But horrific hat-head is the last of the studio-savvy troubadour's problems -- Badly Drawn Boy, whose real name is Damon Gough, won't come out from under his shield of cleverness, either. His music is buried under a bed of wit and winks -- and often it misses heart.

His award-winning and audience-endearing debut, The Hour of Bewilderbeast, succeeded in spite of its ironic trappings because it had a sweeter sincerity. That's something that new album Have You Fed the Fish? can't claim.

Like Bewilderbeast, the new album takes a few listens to really reveal its charms and rewards. The title song bursts into a synthesizer funk romp, and a guitar edge unexpectedly claws its way onto "Born Again" and a few other songs. But for the most part, Gough settles into a theatrical sort of singer/songwriter pop like a new-age Burt Bacharach.

Excellent centerpiece "You Were Right" is a gliding, melodic stomp of a romantic confessional. Jaunty ballads like "How?" and the sly "The Further I Slide" are other highlights, and both are theatrically melodramatic.

But a majority of the material is over-produced, the warmth and melodies of the songs lost in Gough's attempt to create and eclectic, quirky sound. Many of the songs feel tossed off because they aren't very strong -- you feel Gough searching for a melody and coming up short. There aren't any songs as indelible as "The Shining" or "Pissing in the Wind," both from his debut.

Have You Fed the Fish? is still a solid and appealing album, but it's a minor disappointment if you've already discovered the straightforward charms of his debut or his "About a Boy" soundtrack. On those, you get the sense that Gough actually stooped to tip his hat.

By Brian Millikin

Helms
McCarthy
3 Stars

McCarthy, the sophomore full-length album release from post-rock trio Helms, is a compelling musical experiment -- despite being rather pretentious.

It's difficult at first to take an album with song titles like "At Night the Ringing Filled Their Rooms Like the Bells of Distant Churches" without a grain of salt.

This is particularly true after hearing guitarist Sean McCarthy's eccentric vocals, which are almost always spoken and almost never sensical.

To get past these distractions, however, is to discover that an experimental guitar trio still can create a sound that is multifaceted, original and intelligent.

Largely ambient and sometimes abrasive, the record's epic soundscapes won't satisfy those seeking easily digestible pop. The tracks are more like chapters in a musical saga than individual songs.

Repetition is used, and sometimes abused, throughout. A short, simple melodic idea typically is repeated through an entire track, while layers are added above and below it until the tune reaches a loud climactic moment and then fades into nothing.

The most impressive musicianship on the record comes from drummer Dan McCarthy, who consistently balances technical mastery of his instrument with tasteful playing.

His brother Sean's guitar work is effective but more subtle. He benefits more from creative uses of noises and digital effects than from superior technique. His best melodies are angular and sound something like old King Crimson.

Tina Helms' thoughtful bass lines are simple but logical and well-constructed. They add a great deal of flesh to the record, which still sounds minimal even with a multitude of guitar overdubs.

As an ensemble, Helms is tight. They are impeccably together even through the drastic speeding up and slowing down of "The Skills You Need in the 20th Century" and the odd timing of "Nothing Can Keep Us From Stopping."

If the music is in the art-rock tradition of Sonic Youth, then Sean McCarthy's strange spoken vocals are a combination of Pavement's Stephen Malkmus and The Doors' Jim Morrison.

He often takes himself too seriously. In "It Takes Skin to Win" he describes, in a strained voice, a band pulling its salt-encrusted amplifiers out of the ocean. His story ends with the repeated assertion that, "They could see forever!"

But despite its artistic arrogance, Helms can in fact see quite a long way. McCarthy is experimental rock for the introvert.

Its atmospheric ballads create a unique mood that is at once manic and serene.

By Grey Huddleston