Thee More Shallows
A History of Sport Fishing
[Megalon; 2002]
Rating: 6.0
Due to legalities, the band formerly known as Thee Shallows are now
called Thee More Shallows, according to a sticker applied to the CD
case of this band's debut album. I'm kind of wondering who
threatened to sue the band-- I can't even find another band on All
Music Guide called The Shallows. Hell, I can't even find this
band on All Music Guide, that's how unknown they are. It's things
like this that drive home just how litigious our society has become.
Two completely unknown elements battling for the same moniker. It
just seems silly. But whether they're Thee Shallows or Thee More
Shallows doesn't matter much when you're listening to their music,
so let's get our minds off of all that legal mumbo jumbo and move
on a bit.
Really, calling Thee Shallows a band is being a bit liberal. They're
actually a duo comprised of longtime musical collaborators Dee Kesler
and Tadas Kisielius, assisted by a large rotating cast of friends--
most notably two able drummers and some string players-- and the result
comes across as something like a three-way collision between Death Cab
for Cutie, American Analog Set and Yo La Tengo's And Then Nothing
Turned Itself Inside Out. Tadas' voice is almost a dead ringer for
Death Cab's Ben Gibbard, especially when he hits his falsetto, which is
just about constantly. His willowy tenor is wrapped in downy layers of
clean, skeletal guitars and quietly droning organ. A certain dark
moodiness permeates everything, staking its claim on every second of the
album, from the gentle violin-dominated instrumental "Pulchritude" to the
noisy crescendo in the midsection of the title track.
By and large, A History of Sport Fishing is a nicely conceived
album, opening with the tense "Where Are You Now?" Kisielius sings
in a near-whisper over a bed of minimal guitars and gradually
swelling organ. The band shifts the texture effortlessly throughout
the song, making it one of the album's most captivating tracks.
While the pacing on that song is nearly perfect, though, the rest of
the album doesn't fare quite as well.
Even a sterling track like "The 8th Ring of Hell" suffers a bit from
an overlong guitar intro, though the most tiresome section of the
album is easily the title track's aforementioned midsection. Simply
put, the band doesn't do a noisy grind well enough to justify
attempting it for four full minutes. Elsewhere, songs like the
instrumental "The CruXXX" manage to develop rhythmically, but offer
nothing the least bit melodic to hang on to, instead simply plowing
cleanly picked guitar arpeggios into the ground.
And that's the album's other primary flaw-- though almost uniformly
pleasant, A History of Sport Fishing seldom casts a truly
strong hook to reel you into its world. Consequently, the most
memorable thing about a song like "I Do So Have a Sense of Humor" is
its title, though the string arrangement at the end is kind of nice.
With some work on building a few more barbs into their sound, Thee
Shallows could have a good future with their newly modified name, but
for now they'll have to settle for being simply pleasant.
-Joe Tangari, May 6th, 2002