Last Summer: Eleanor Friedberger

Only a few times a year does a debut album come along which announces its own arrival with an entirely unassuming, yet wholly matter-of-fact intellect, confidence and completeness.


Albums such as these tend not to pine for attention or jostle for recognition. They sound intrinsically fulfilled and  seem, rather superbly, to enjoy their own company. Noting the above, you'd be forgiven for thinking this might all be a pointless exercise in intellectualism - in which the whole 'pop-rock record as art' contrivance is taken up by a daring new novelist with a flair for self-gratification, eschewing commercial viability, and goading the listener into actually going away. And it could be - were it not so damn good sounding.

Eleanor Friedberger - Scenes from Bensonhurst by MergeRecords

Indeed, it is the music rather than the sprawling, engaging, lyricism which underscores this record's true value to the 2011 soundscape. Friedberger's regular outfit, The Fiery Furnaces, have always held out the promise of an exciting new blend of musical adventurism combined with lyrical prowess. Yet, somehow, for the most part, they have managed to under-deliver on the majority of outings - possibly through the practice of trying a little too hard to unearth a new idea or giving that good idea a modicum too much munificence when it finally makes it onto the page/vinyl.


'Last Summer' on the other hand provides a musical sound-space in which the lyrics find a natural home - probably, in some cases, after a long lost journey. More than just a canvass, the tunes and arrangements give the stories a pumping, surging, circulatory system which brings the characters and scenarios to full life. The Russian bike repairer on Coney Island, the giggler on the F train out of Brooklyn, the nervous twosome scoring on "the corner" and the narrator posing in front of a somebody else's expensive car, are all scenes that are animated by the musical arrangements which accompany them. When it comes to influences, the sources are dazzlingly varied and the stakes (of getting it wrong) are daringly high. The echoing eeriness of Inn of the Seventh Ray and the 'so it goes' groove-shuffle of Roosevelt Island propel the listener from territory somewhere near David Bowie's Sound and Vision (from his '77 masterwork 'Low') out to the present-day 'Instant Vintage' of modern artists such as the brilliant Raphael Saadiq and then back again. And, somewhere along the way, Friedberger managers to re-establish (if not completely revive) the relevance and essentialness of a quality sax solo and simple piano flourish in modern rock music. But I'll let you discover the myriad other treasures for yourself.

Eleanor Friedberger - My Mistakes by The Wounded Jukebox

If Eleanor Friedberger continues in the practice of documenting her mistakes (which is an undeniably rich lyrical seam for the rest of us to enjoy) - then 'Last Summer', undoubtedly, will never feature among them.