Someone's Belting Songs From a Mountain Top! If Only We Knew Who...

There's a scene in Tropic Thunder when Robert Downey Jr's character, the critically acclaimed Australian actor Kurt Lazarus, is asked by Ben Stiller what dude he is (a version of "who are you?"). At the time of the question, Downey is playing Lazarus, who has undergone radical skin surgery to play an African-American Sergeant, who is currently disguised as an Asian farmer. Downey, who of course knows all of this, responds to Stiller's question matter-of-factly, stating (and I paraphrase here) "I know what dude I am. I'm a dude, playing a dude, disguised as another dude!" This convoluted sense of self undoes Downey moments later when his character crumbles to the floor, teary eyed and coming to the realization that his transformation into all sorts of characters has left him, personally, a nobody. In other words, dude lost his soul.

In a way, this little scene sums up a lot of what I think is wrong with Fleet Foxes' self-titled debut album. Much like Downey's Lazarus in Tropic Thunder, Fleet Foxes could hardly ask for more critical acclaim than their debut has received this year. Listeners everywhere can not seem to get enough of Fleet Foxes organic, woodsy Americana. Playing a clean blend of folksy pop indebted heavily to Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, the band serves as a stark contrast to the commercialized, plastic pop the Britney Spears of the world have flooded our radios with for over a decade now. Likewise, although Fleet Foxes are fully embraced by the indie rock crowd, their uplifting, nearly cathartic harmonies ring out so clearly it sounds like they're sung from mountain-tops into pure open nature. Obviously, Fleet Foxes aren't the first band to draw upon 60's folk and pop, but the complete absence of a 90's indie aesthetic (see: lo-fi hiss, Jesus and Mary Chain distortion, or any of Pavement's quirkiness) separates their album from the rest of the pack. In a time where "indie rock" is losing its meaning, Fleet Foxes are boldly drawing on influences so time-tested (for example, the ability to actually sing with voices so full they occasionally sound like the microphones use to record them can't even contain all the power) they've nearly been forgotten.

More importantly, Fleet Foxes are able to craft their influences into fully developed, totally complete songs. On opener, Sun it Rises, an a cappella swirl of beautiful harmonies leads into a blend of banjo and rising acoustic chords. On White Winter Hymnal, an a cappella build-up of the sing-along verse leads into gathering arrangements of modest percussion, acoustic guitars, and a wordless chorus. In short, it is remarkable how extraordinarily well constructed Fleet Foxes is for the band's first album. Even Ragged Wood, which features the single catchiest melody on the disc set to a danceable drum shuffle, knows precisely when to scale the upbeat rush back a notch and continue on with a far more laconic batch of finger-picked guitar and organ.

All of the above becomes far more interesting, considering Fleet Foxes are a rag-tag group from Seattle. The city where grunge was spawned. And yet, they sound like their flannel shirts might smell of burnt oak and log cabins... not the sweaty, wet industry of Seattle. In a way, this complete devotion to the beautiful, pastoral elements of American pop, despite the band's lack of actual association with the pastoral, is akin to Downey's Lazarus and his attempts to portray an African-American male... even though he very clearly is not one. Now to be clear, I have no problems with Fleet Foxes adopting their woodsy style of baroque pop simply because they're not actually from the Blue Ridge Mountains, an area they sing about on one of the album's more effective tracks. It would be absurd of me to demand Fleet Foxes play grunge simply because they're from Seattle. No, I only raise the point, because although Fleet Foxes play their style of rural forestry with utmost authenticity, the same way Lazarus acted, I can't help but feel that the dedication lacks any sort of soul or legitimate personality to make these songs anything more than well-written, manufactured products.

A good deal of my complaint can probably be levied against the Foxes front man, Robin Pecknold. Gifted with an absolutely golden voice - the sort that brings to mind My Morning Jacket's Jim James - Pecknold is undoubtedly the focal point of Fleet Foxes. Indeed, on tracks such as Tiger Mountain Peasant Song or Oliver James all we hear is the gentle picking of an acoustic guitar and Pecknold's calm delivery. Despite the intimate setting, though, Pecknold reveals absolutely no personality, nor evokes any sort of emotion. Whereas his contemporary Justin Vernon (of Bon Iver fame) is able to draw out a deep sense of longing and nostalgia with his vocals, Pecknold merely molds into Fleet Foxes framework. On Tiger Mountain Peasant Song you can practically hear the birds chirping and the trees swaying in a light breeze around Pecknold, but rather than stand-out as the only human being in the setting, Pecknold just slips away into the woodwork.

This is primarily why I don't think Fleet Foxes is nearly as jaw dropping of a debut as many believe it to be. When I listen to the bright chiming piano of Quiet Houses or the lush harmonies on Meadowlark, I really don't feel anything... other than sleepy. As well produced as this album may be, and as wonderfully impressive as Fleet Foxes vocal interplay is, Fleet Foxes is a largely uneventful, drowsy album without much of a soul to make it more interesting. In Tropic Thunder, all Lazarus has to do to regain his confidence and find inner peace is to simply embrace the fact that he is an Australian actor. Not the characters he plays. Perhaps for Fleet Foxes' sophomore attempt, they can embrace the fact that they're a bunch of dudes from Seattle who make beautiful Appalachian mountain pop - as opposed to this full devotion to faux-authenticity. Whether this means relevant lyrics or a clear attitude is irrelevant. As long as Fleet Foxes as a brand aren't as fixed and uncharismatic as they are on Fleet Foxes, I'm sure they'll work wonders.