Eleanor Friedberger / Matthew Friedberger: "One-Month Marathon" / "Rebeccaism"

The Fiery Furnaces, composed of siblings Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger, are one of the most polarizing indie bands of the last decade. Even here at CMG, the band earned themselves one of the site’s very highest ratings for Blueberry Boat (2004) and, with Rehearsing My Choir (2005), one of its lowest. I used to be a passionate defender of the band, but time has tempered my enthusiasm a bit. I’m not bothered by the twelve-minute Moog fugues and frantic, often nonsensical lyrics, but by what I now perceive to be a pervasive lack of emotional depth in the band’s work. A great deal of ground is covered musically and narratively, but in being so bombarded with names and locales, the listener has little to latch onto and remember. Moreover, some of the band’s most exhilarating moments are buried six or seven minutes into otherwise pedestrian tracks, which can make listening to Blueberry Boat or Bitter Tea (2006) an exhausting experience. Over time, even the band’s best albums have fallen prey to the law of diminishing returns.

Having taken a brief recording hiatus after 2009’s I’m Going Away, the Friedbergers have returned under their own names in 2011. Eleanor has released her first solo album with Last Summer, while Matthew is releasing a series of eight records, each played on a different instrument, as part of a series he calls Solos. Last Summer seems bound to win over new fans for Ms. Friedberger and the Fiery Furnaces, as it puts the band’s gift for breezy, effortless pop morsels in the foreground while downplaying their more experimental tendencies. Solos, on the other hand, actually seems designed for obscurity: you can only buy the records on vinyl as a complete set, and the music itself is as impenetrable as anything the band has ever done. But those who have slogged through Blueberry Boat and found the voyage worthwhile will find that Solos does yield some rewards.

Case in point: “Rebeccaism.” Released on the Old Regimes album and played (like the rest of that album) entirely on harp, “Rebeccaism” alternates between tense, brooding verses where Matthew uses the harp percussively, and soaring melodic interludes which provide a jarring but welcome contrast to the song’s dominant atmosphere. The transitions between the song’s two themes are, in typical Friedberger fashion, all but non-existent, but the tension is built up in the verses so effectively that the melodic reprieves, abrupt as they are, feel natural enough to cohere with the verses. The song’s typically arcane subject matter concerns a real group of mid-19th century Welshmen who protested the erection and taxation of local turnpike gates by dressing in drag and, following the direction of their leader “Rebecca,” tearing the gates down at night. It’s an interesting enough story, but Matthew has never been much of a vocalist; his approach on this song is more mumbled-word than spoken-word, and his lack of enthusiasm is infectious. Which is the real problem with much of Solos: the music is sometimes good and the lyrics sufficiently beguiling, but Matthew seems incapable of investing his stories with any real emotional gravitas or thematic resonance.

Which is exactly why he needs his little sister around. Eleanor gets considerable mileage from her limited vocal range, and her articulate, enthusiastic, unironic delivery is as crucial to the Fiery Furnaces’ signature sound as her brother’s synth armadas. With “One-Month Marathon,” perhaps the gentlest piece on Last Summer, Eleanor shows herself to be capable of writing songs that are as affecting as her lovely voice. The instrumentation is sparse—just strummed guitar, softly tapped toms, and a quiet nylon-string solo—and leaves the focus on her intimate lyrics. The narrative is rather cryptic, but there is a palpable sense of romantic deprivation and yearning in the refrain: “Can I play in your closet? / Can I poke ‘round your drawer? / Can I see through your mirror? / Can I come in your store, baby?” In the midst of these pleas, Eleanor drops one of the most bizarrely provocative couplets she’s ever uttered: “She said ‘I’m gonna wrap the night around your neck / Slice off your head, daddy.’” Daddy goes on to fashion a dress from the night for Eleanor, who finds it too hot and sheds it for a rope necklace. Surreal and foreboding and tantalizing all at once, these lines add just the right amount of depth to an album that is often more concerned with skimming across surfaces than delving under them. With small touches like this, “One-Month Marathon” is a model for how the Friedbergers might, in their future work, slow down a bit, dig down a bit, and find the humanity in their busy travelogues.