Maps & Atlases - Perch Patchwork
Perch Patchwork is Maps & Atlases’ first full-length record, but they’re not a ‘new’ band. Their debut comes on the heels of a handful of EPs in which the Chicago art school quartet honed their math-rock chops and made tentative steps toward pop songcraft. Now, that term—‘math-rock’—is usually quite off-putting to me. Whether or not it’s accurate, I have this idea in my head about over-wrought guitars, drummers looking to show off, coldly esoteric lyrics, and time signatures that ensure no listener’s head will ever bob with pleasure. Not that there’s no place for technical innovation in popular music, but people too often forget that playing an instrument well doesn’t equal making good music. Here, Maps & Atlases have taken the best possible route in combatting the pitfalls of their prim, twisty roots. They apply their skill to crafting angular, lopsided, and lushly arranged pop songs that complement Dave Davison’s throaty, amiable voice, falling more in line with popular indie bands that aren’t afraid to get complicated (AnCo, GB, DPs, StV, etc.) than any sort of metal-derived noodling. This is a good thing.
Patchwork opens on “Will,” the first of three wordless interludes (the other two being “Is” and “Was”—see what they did there?) that inject the band’s normally clean instrumental textures with some understatedly gauzy sounds. Davison’s voice doubles the scratchy stop-start guitar lines as a heavy slap-back effect covers the drums in the right channel, a production style that closely resembles that of the sought-after Chris Taylor. Because of its sonic differences, it makes for an odd introduction to the record (and the band in general), but Maps & Atlases make it clear throughout that they’re not super interested in leading you around by the hand. Accompanied by barely-tonal loops, Davison leads off second track “The Charm” with muted pop emotion. “I don’t think there is a sound that I hate more / than the sound of your voice / when you say that you don’t love me anymore,” he croons as the track builds slow momentum. At the half way mark, Chris Hainey kicks the song’s small sentiments wide open with a drum corps’ worth of martial percussion, transforming it into a declarative anthem.
“Solid Ground,” which we’ve been digging since it surfaced as a prerelease track in April, is surely Patchwork’s most accessible track. Simultaneously distinctive and familiar, it plays orchestral psych pop touches (flute, organ) against the whimsical clockwork of the band’s angular riffage and Hainey’s woodblocking. Davison softens and embellishes one of his best melodic turns with doubled background vocals and additional harmonies, making the “na-na-na” hook a bona fide earworm. It’s followed by the second ‘interlude’ track, “Is,” a primarily acoustic guitar-based affair whose cyclical patterns and hand drums create a middle-eastern air. It’s a well-placed break between “Solid Ground” and “Israeli Caves,” the album’s second contender for standout single. Over copious toms, rim clicks, and harmonic backups that sit like a peppier Local Natives, Davison uses actual verses and choruses that alternate in sequence. His sentiments here are quirky and questioning: “When you look out on the midwest plain / do you realize the moon is still the same / that rose above the Israeli caves / the day the words you praise were written?” Though I’m sure you could take it as an indictment of religion (i.e. holy books are no big deal b/c they were written by people just like you), I don’t really hear that kind of biting sarcasm in Davison’s delivery. I tend to think of it as a reminder of constancy and historical legacy, like those extraordinary things can still happen today.
On the album’s second half, “Carrying the Wet Wood” and “Pigeon” make liberal use of rhythmically stuttering guitar lines that recall Dirty Projectors, though each song carries its own surprises (“Pigeon” features a burst of Latin sounds, while “Carrying” employs a playful xylophone). “Banished Be Cavalier” adds extra heaps of orchestration for an ornate take on the Vampire Weekend school of breeziness and “If This Is” puts somewhat of a post-punk spin on Maps & Atlases’ chunkiness. After the final interlude (“Was,” all spiky, soulfully downcast guitars), the closing title track relies almost totally on the whimsical woodwinds, jaunty strings, and softly plucked acoustic guitars someone like Sufjan Stevens might employ. As it rolls through its 5 min. plus run time, additional vocals pile in, eventually taking over the tune entirely, ending on a blocky a-cappella collage as Davison repeats “With the race over / we’ll take what we can get.” For an album that rethinks pop structure and repositions its makers within musical culture, it’s a reasonable resignation. Perch Patchwork won’t change your life or spawn gaggles of imitators, but Maps & Atlases’ well-crafted tunes and agreeable voicing suggest that one day they very well could.
