I feel like I'll be talking about The Fiery Furnaces for years to come, or at least I sure do hope so. Considering the rate at which I consume an album though I guess it will buy them some time until I reach their selling out point (god forbid).
But at least for now (this particular now belonging to the year 2003) they truly are the cat's jammies!
Consisting of only two members who just so happen to share the same lovely genes (quite unlike The White Stripes who albeit the publicly proclaimed brotherly love, share a completely different and slightly disturbing type of jeans) the Illinoiseans (?!) Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger showcase a rare phoenix like ability to reinvent themselves endlessly throughout songs that barely ever even surpass the 3 minutes barrier. The duo present such a unconventional orchestra of ideas with every single one of them boasting a completely different sound from the other but still through those disparities they find a way to weave it all together inside what resembles an elephant sized metal kaleidoscope like tin and all crotch shampooing analogies aside make it sound like the first piece of music you've ever listened to.
As a songwriter I often find myself both praising and burying in criticism this seemingly apparent disdain for sense that some fellow musicians tend to adopt in their art. But while some might do it out of love for phonetics, others seem to do it simply because that's the way it came out from that creative black hole's ass hole that we call heart. And for that I respect them. As I respect for instance Mr. Andrew Bird (an Illinoisean himself) whose avid adulation of sounds often drives him to disregard almost completely the intelligible world and braid our minds and tongues together.
In The Fiery Furnaces' case though it seems that what is more appealing to them is the teaming up of often contrasting little concepts that together with a slightly more toned down love of the sound provides them (Eleanor in most cases) with the enchanting task of making letters and words come to life and do what these neglected little things do best, breed images inside our brains. And those images are an absolute wonder.
Thank you guys, I hope the next one is just as good. But I'll understand if that's not the case. After all, our tastes/senses/hungers just happened to be in perfect tune this (that) time in life and that's already quite an achievement.
The Fiery Furnaces' Concert a Emporter
PS - Just thought I mentioned how I even found out about them. I was tediously rummaging through La Blogotheque's mighty mighty archives and hip hip hurray thus began my brightest day!
