A Fire With
Friends
“It’s Nice To
See You Again”
Some
albums you can crank up in the car as open-windowed cruising juice; a little
aural merriment to accompany you for the ride. Others are just so enthralling
they’ll actually make you pull over and reflect upon what you’re hearing. A
Fire With Friends’ “It’s Nice To See You Again” falls under the latter category
– a celestial body of work that relies heavily on meticulous arrangement,
gazing introspection, and an almost intuitive, instant listener connection to
succeed.
Following
up 2014’s full-length “Ghost House,” this EP consists of four tracks and clocks
in at just 15 minutes – it’s economical, efficient, and utterly transfixing in
its musicality. A Fire With Friends is as tight as a great band should be, but
somehow sounds like a collective of instrumental explorers, never satisfied
until they happen upon that musical sweet spot. The Scranton six-piece hits
that spot over and over, with material that alludes to the best of faux-sulk
Smiths/Morrisey, the hip, frenetic rock-ified chaos of Kings of Leon, and the
organic, radio-friendly zeal of acts like The Fray – although A Fire With
Friends sounds as independent as “indie” can be. Had R.E.M. been born 30 years
later, experiencing the uncertainty, angst, and fallout of a couple generations
removed, they might sound like this band.
Another
sonic slice of heaven to emerge from the ears of Jay Preston and Joe Loftus at
Olyphant’s JL Studios (A Social State’s Ed Cuozzo actually served as
co-engineer), the album is true to their hallmark of adequate track separation
and sheer clarity throughout. “Keystone”
kicks off the EP with a hurried rush of guitars and trembling lyricism –
frontman Dan Rosler’s repeated, ascending refrain of “stone me first,” and his
neatly tucked vocal weaving from near falsetto to ponderous scoff, provides
incredible animation to this music, which incidentally never needs to fall back
on fading whimsicality or passing topical references to be relevant – there’s a
scarred heart beating within these tunes to which we all can relate.
“Brother”
is a despondent, roots-inflected ballad, where Rosler’s already breathy voice
is complemented by the lush vocal harmony of singer/songwriter Melinda May. The
song treads delicately through profound reflections of loneliness and fear, as
Rosler gently evaporates lines like “I’m afraid of you – I’m afraid of
everyone,” and doles over “a face so long, you could wear it as a dress” – the
entire lamentation courses over a grieving violin and reverent acoustic guitar;
again, the instrumental layering is a good 50 percent of this music’s appeal.
“Emma
Leigh” is also somewhat sobering in its presentation; reveling in that inward,
slow build that bands like Switchfoot do so well – guitars elegantly used to synthesizing
effect with mid-tempo drum fills bypassing a standard “2” and “4” snare hit,
Rosler trailing off into falsetto while he agonizes that “it’s all my fault,
again” after “all the chances we’ve had.” Near the end of the song, there
appears to be what sounds like guitar/violin harmony runs that mimic the vocal
line – truly inventive and powerful, showing the instrumental prowess this band
does possess.
“Sun
Alive” closes the EP with a punch-drunk take on the band’s brand of melancholy
– the spritely guitar jangle better than anything this side of a Danelectro or
Fender Jaguar played by the hands of Peter Buck himself, with flirtatious time
signature hopping and even some trombone thrown in courtesy of Jay Preston. The
song can be viewed as a sort-of redemption that picks up the pieces of the
shattered self, broken during the previous tracks – a great coda to the
sublimely gray tones on the rest of the EP.
Music
that digs to the deepest recess of our perceptions of what it is to feel, A
Fire With Friends creates beautiful imagery that at once criticizes, consoles,
and contributes to whatever our best ideals of self-awareness may be – tuneful
thought, for sure, and the most lucid daydream you’ll ever have.
-Mark
Uricheck
