Post by Zapp Brannigan on Feb 7, 2011 11:57:57 GMT -5
www.lifessweetbreath.com/reviews/albums/26-cape-dory.html
Tennis - Cape Dory
[Fat Possum, 2011]
68%
I don’t like Best Coast. Remember that. It’ll come into play later.
The band Tennis is a duo comprised of husband and wife Patrick Riley and Alaina Moore. The project was conceptualized as the two journeyed on a yearlong tour of the Atlantic Ocean in a 30-foot sailboat. Afterwards, the two decided to take a crack at recreating the music they’d listened to throughout their adventure.
The result is Cape Dory, another lo-fi, fun in the sun music collective. The group might not exactly revolutionize the sound they achieve, but they manage to do it better than half of their peers. The album clocks in at a cool 28 minutes, yet manages to feel longer. Not in the negative “Oh man, this Linkin Park is terrible” manner or an “I forget time existed because of how awesome Radiohead is” kind of way, but in the simple “I feel like I’ve heard this before” fashion.
Let’s start off with the good: one of the unique aspects of this group (and they’re few and far between) is the direct references to late 50s/early 60s girl groups. In particular with songs like ‘Bimini Bay’ and ‘Pigeon’ the nostalgic, Phil Spector sound is reminiscent of groups from the time period. The only problem is that feeling that you’ve heard it a hundred times before.
And of course, the numerous references to the water don’t really help. On ‘Marathon’ Alaina sings “separated from the sea by a shifting shoal/we didn't realize that we had arrived at high tide/Will we make it out alive?” On ‘Long Boat Pass’, she sings, “We spent the night at long boat key/It drains the confidence out of me/Those little shore boats to expect/Oh sailor, you had better be good.” The recurring themes of lovers and water and the beach and sun are endearing at first, but quickly grow tiresome as the realization kicks in that that’s what every song is about.
The musicianship of the band is not the question; Patrick plays guitar excellently and Alaina’s classical piano musicianship is heard throughout. The problem is where the group stands out (or doesn’t) The blurred fuzz of the guitars and the ‘oh-ah-ohs’ have been done repeatedly.
The cover of Cape Dory shows a redhead blurred and posing for a shot with a particular heir, and is everything Tennis is: a light poke at the very things they are, in the vein of Vampire Weekend. Which is sort of a summation of how I feel about them: They’re nice and charming and the music is neat, but so what?
Remember earlier when I said I hate Best Coast? Well, I still do. Maybe that’s not the way to start off a review of Tennis, a band so similar, it’s undoubtedly recommended on the iTunes Genius function, but the review calls for an understanding of my bias against Best Coast to fully appreciate how I feel about Tennis.
Tennis is everything Best Coast is, and is not simultaneously. The lyrics of pretension and general nothingness aren’t so much a bad thing as they are an unmemorable one. In this blogging era, everyone is a musician and everyone is a critic, so when groups pop up like the Dum Dum Girls and Best Coast, they need to make the extra effort to remain relevant when put up against the slew of the new artists coming out everyday doing the exact same thing. This is where Tennis fails.
The sounds are the same, the words are the same; even the gimmick is the same. Any originality brought to the table is instantly crushed by the benign of feeling of having already been here before. It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just that it’s worn.
So to wrap everything up, if you’re an Ivy League trustee wearing a Lacoste sweater and boat shoes or a fan of the glistening, anonymous sound of love songs about the ocean, dive into Tennis headfirst. The songs will make you feel good, no doubt. But it’s almost impossible to not wonder exactly how long the name Tennis will stick around in your conscience.
-Jack McGrew, February 7, 2011
Tennis - Cape Dory
[Fat Possum, 2011]
68%
I don’t like Best Coast. Remember that. It’ll come into play later.
The band Tennis is a duo comprised of husband and wife Patrick Riley and Alaina Moore. The project was conceptualized as the two journeyed on a yearlong tour of the Atlantic Ocean in a 30-foot sailboat. Afterwards, the two decided to take a crack at recreating the music they’d listened to throughout their adventure.
The result is Cape Dory, another lo-fi, fun in the sun music collective. The group might not exactly revolutionize the sound they achieve, but they manage to do it better than half of their peers. The album clocks in at a cool 28 minutes, yet manages to feel longer. Not in the negative “Oh man, this Linkin Park is terrible” manner or an “I forget time existed because of how awesome Radiohead is” kind of way, but in the simple “I feel like I’ve heard this before” fashion.
Let’s start off with the good: one of the unique aspects of this group (and they’re few and far between) is the direct references to late 50s/early 60s girl groups. In particular with songs like ‘Bimini Bay’ and ‘Pigeon’ the nostalgic, Phil Spector sound is reminiscent of groups from the time period. The only problem is that feeling that you’ve heard it a hundred times before.
And of course, the numerous references to the water don’t really help. On ‘Marathon’ Alaina sings “separated from the sea by a shifting shoal/we didn't realize that we had arrived at high tide/Will we make it out alive?” On ‘Long Boat Pass’, she sings, “We spent the night at long boat key/It drains the confidence out of me/Those little shore boats to expect/Oh sailor, you had better be good.” The recurring themes of lovers and water and the beach and sun are endearing at first, but quickly grow tiresome as the realization kicks in that that’s what every song is about.
The musicianship of the band is not the question; Patrick plays guitar excellently and Alaina’s classical piano musicianship is heard throughout. The problem is where the group stands out (or doesn’t) The blurred fuzz of the guitars and the ‘oh-ah-ohs’ have been done repeatedly.
The cover of Cape Dory shows a redhead blurred and posing for a shot with a particular heir, and is everything Tennis is: a light poke at the very things they are, in the vein of Vampire Weekend. Which is sort of a summation of how I feel about them: They’re nice and charming and the music is neat, but so what?
Remember earlier when I said I hate Best Coast? Well, I still do. Maybe that’s not the way to start off a review of Tennis, a band so similar, it’s undoubtedly recommended on the iTunes Genius function, but the review calls for an understanding of my bias against Best Coast to fully appreciate how I feel about Tennis.
Tennis is everything Best Coast is, and is not simultaneously. The lyrics of pretension and general nothingness aren’t so much a bad thing as they are an unmemorable one. In this blogging era, everyone is a musician and everyone is a critic, so when groups pop up like the Dum Dum Girls and Best Coast, they need to make the extra effort to remain relevant when put up against the slew of the new artists coming out everyday doing the exact same thing. This is where Tennis fails.
The sounds are the same, the words are the same; even the gimmick is the same. Any originality brought to the table is instantly crushed by the benign of feeling of having already been here before. It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just that it’s worn.
So to wrap everything up, if you’re an Ivy League trustee wearing a Lacoste sweater and boat shoes or a fan of the glistening, anonymous sound of love songs about the ocean, dive into Tennis headfirst. The songs will make you feel good, no doubt. But it’s almost impossible to not wonder exactly how long the name Tennis will stick around in your conscience.
-Jack McGrew, February 7, 2011