Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros - Up From Below
One fun game you can play while listening to Edward Sharpe & the Magnificent Zeros' debut album, Up From Below, is to look at their publicity media and try to count how many people are in the band. The album cover shows nine people (or possibly more, hiding amongst the shadowy outcroppings of rock). One side of the folded out CD booklet is given to a photo of a dozen Americana hippie hipsters on and around the branch of a gnarled old oak tree. The official website is dominated by a brief, repeating video of ten (I think it is) people holding hands and spinning in a circle, as the sun dips below the horizon behind them. (There is no right answer: The liner notes list twelve musicians, while Wikipedia cites ten members.)
More than just a game, these images provide context for the band's music, which combines the relaxed vibe of a summer afternoon party with the exuberance of a large collective of musicians jamming together. Make no mistake, though: Edward Sharpe & the Magnificent Zeros are no jam band. Don't think Phish; instead, imagine what Arcade Fire would sound like if they'd sprouted up in Southern California, hanging out in a sun-baked backyard rather than hunkered down in a chilly old church in Canada.
Opening track "40 Day Dream" immediately reveals the group's recipe of equal parts jubilation and determination, as gospel-tinged indie rock meets peyote-laced imagery. Taking a break from his Ima Robot vocal duties, Zeroes leader Alex Ebert (who's credited as "Edward" in the liner notes) sings of a girl with "gold doorknobs where her eyes used to be" and "jumper cable lips." Sweeping violin and ensemble backing vocals veer from minor to major chords, as Ebert decides that, after meeting his new love, "I got no fear of death now." So, yes, there's an edge to Alex Ebert's songs, but he's usually too busy rejoicing life to dwell on the bad stuff. (Win Butler, on the other hand, writes and performs like he's got hellhounds on his trail.)
Ebert and company are clearly indebted to a long lineage of Americana acts. The title track is built around a strummy, ambling ditty that recalls Wilco's interpretations of Woody Guthrie's lyrics on Mermaid Avenue. The delightful "Home" seems like an homage to Johnny Cash and June Carter, as Alex Ebert and his apparent paramour, Jade Castrinos, duet about their "deep, deep love" to the accompaniment of a bouncy indie country tune. "Jade" is also the subject of an eponymous song, in which she is "the girl of the hour." So, yes, Ebert wears his heart on his sleeve, but his strong songwriting avoids gushy love song territory. Some women might not even want to be immortalized with the words: "She's Buddha just watch her / She moves like an old gypsy woman." One would guess that Jade is also the inspiration behind "Simplest Love," a song that is both about a girl ("Her eyes are green, her hair is brown") and about itself ("No difficult chords, easy to play").
The latter half of the album takes a slight turn toward the dark side. The refrain of the Jared Diamond-referencing "Black Water" is, "Guns and steel and the germs of love." With martial drums and blaring horns, the dramatic "Kisses Over Babylon" sounds like an Iberian battle march and, while sung mostly in Spanish, the English language line "Warkind your time has come" offers another, more aggressive facet of Ebert's worldview. That track, however, is a bit melodramatic and blustery, especially on such a generally life-affirming album. Up from Below is a sonic correction to flimsy "feel good" films, "inspirational" books, and even the slightly empty feeling that follows listening to a Polyphonic Spree record. On their excellent debut, Edward Sharpe & the Magnificent Zeroes acknowledge the grit of life, but choose the power of love, comradery, and song – and a mighty fine bunch of songs this is.
Recommended Tracks: "Home," Simplest Love"
