Album Review

Every once and a while, an album comes into your life that serves a need that you didn’t realize needed filling. Within the first listen you appreciate it; by the second listen it is speaking to you in a soft whisper telling you everything is going to be alright; by the third listen, it wedges its way into your heart in such a way that you know it’s going to be there for a long time to come. High Places self-titled debut is such an album.

The Brooklyn based duo released their much-anticipated debut last week. Comprised of vocalist Mary Pearson and multi-percussionist Rob Barber, High Places garnered interest well before the release of the album; having been dubbed by Pitchfork magazine as “one of the year’s most promising young bands,” and serving (with only their small catalogue of 7″ records) as the springboard for eMusic’s Selects Program.

The band’s name, which refers to “a place where one has a better vantage point and can gain broader perspective,” amply fits as the album’s title as well. From first note to final, the album feels like a journey: traveling to higher ground where the air is clear, the view is expansive and your brain, at least for a little while, is free to roam.

Pearson’s vocals are whimsical and lilting, floating as the mood strikes. Often run through filters and various pedals, they are not always the focus, instead, just one of the many layers of the multi-faceted songs. Barber’s eclectic percussion and instrumental savvy is organic and occasionally tribal in its execution. From staple fare including 12 string guitar, rattles, bass, bells and Kalimba, Barber also finds music in the unusual: plastic bags, mixing bowls, wood blocks and other common household objects.

The duo’s do-it-yourself ethos (the entire album was recorded in their apartment), combined with the exuberance of the songs, the innocent beauty of Pearson’s voice and simple lyrics bring back glimmers of one’s childhood; happily marching about with friends, behaving without abandon and embracing your inner wanderlust.

While there is nary a bad song on the album, there are certainly standout tracks. Album opener “The Storm,” with its almost-Asian hinting instrumentals, shows the beautiful interplay between Pearson’s voice and Barber’s percussion work.

“Gold Coin,” inspired by Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, features slowly building instrumental fuzz that enters into hypnotic rhythms alternating with Pearson’s mantra-esque vocals:

The ocean is your god-self
The sun is your god-self
God as air
Part of you is man
Part of you is god-self
The rest is just stumbling in the midst.

From “Stardust to Sentience” serves as the album’s quiet and gentle closing track. As Pearson sings about aging, gravity and space, the music swirls around her as a complicated and comforting lullaby.

After journeying through the entire album, it seems only fitting you are left with the final thought:

Out in the desert your thoughts are as clear as the stars
You feel golden
You’re billion year old carbon.

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