Nonpolitical Interludes: Band of Horses Made a Record

Wannabe Indie Seattle Sentimentalists Make Pseudo-Corporate Craprock for Girls

I didn’t exactly set out for the beach looking for my next record to review. I feel my music copy is what you'd call at least up to snuff. However, the event I was attended was sponsored by a local radio station (94.9), and they were giving away free swag. I ended up with a CD. Since one of the girls had already taken Flogging Molly, I went with the band who had the best album art – Band of Horses.

It bears noting now that I haven’t listened to the radio for something like seven years. I had no idea who Band of Horses were, to be honest. I knew they were signed to Sup Pop, which told me they were likely from Seattle or were cutting their teeth there. Basically what I’m saying is that when I picked out the CD, I had no idea what I was getting. The girl who took the Flogging Molly told me, “I like those guys, but they’re kind of too sad for me.”

When I put the CD (Cease to Begin) in my car stereo on the way home, my initial response could be best summed up with the word, “eh.”

I mean, it’s cool that they like to make pretty pop indie music with a country tinge, I guess. Being a country boy, myself, I must admit songs like "The General Specific," "Window Blues" and "Marry Song" all tugged at my hickstrings, but the rest of the record is so freaking bland, it's almost too ambivalent to exist. The whole record is kind of like a hot chick who isn’t really annoying per se, but she’s just kind of totally devoid of personality. You don’t hate being around her because hey, she’s kinda hot. However, you’d never date her because she’s boring as hell.

And that’s how I felt about Cease to Begin. Upon my first listen, approximately three songs in, I turned to my buddy in the passenger seat and told him, “I bet this is the kind of music chicks listen to when they’re trying to be deep.”

Say what you want about me, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t wrong.

The CD lived in my car for a day or two that weekend until I got to work on Monday. It was at this point that I truly began to understand the wonder of Band of Horses. Their record was exactly the unique blend of barely-there elevator music I needed to help me zone out and finish all my marketing copy. The songs are droning, ambient, guitar-driven pop constructions that lack the depth of Blonde Redhead or the grandiosity of M83. They never go anywhere, and with the exception of the three aforementioned tracks, all the songs pretty much sound the same.

That’s not to say songs like "Ode to LRC," "Is There a Ghost," "No One’s Gonna Love You," and "Detlef Schrempf" don’t all get stuck in my head like gangbusters. They totally do. Again, to go back to the simile, you might remember a pretty girl’s face. That doesn’t mean you’re actually interested. In much the same way, the songs on this record get stuck in my head, but that doesn’t make Cease to Exist intriguing in the slightest.

Still, I found myself singing these songs in the shower. I found myself defending the record as “not so bad” to my roommates. I asked the high school kid I’m mentoring if he’d heard of the band, and he told me they were pretty good. This kid knows about Weezy Mixtapes, so I respect his musical opinions pretty solidly. I started having this existential quarter-life crisis. Was I getting old and lame and selling out by liking this pansy record? Or was I getting old and lame and out of touch by not like this girly rock trash?

I received my answer a week later. I spent my evening hanging out with some friends, drinking and dancing, and just generally being young in a land of crumbling economy, failing war and whispering hope. After last call and the like, I was driving a couple of sorority girls I’d recently met back to their place. So I put on Cease to Begin. Having listened to the record on basic repeat for a week at work, I knew many of the words and sang along lightly and ever so sensitively.

One of the girls proceeded to melt into me as I drove her home. Her friend in the backseat was fairly quiet, as I believe she sensed a moment was occurring. However, as I parked the car and we exited to head up to their room for a nightcap, she asked me, “Hey who was that band you were playing in the car?”

I replied, “Oh that was Band of Horses. Why do you ask?”

“I kind of liked it.”

Checkmate.