Album Review: The Babies - Our House On The Hill


Expanding the sound and personnel from their first release, Woods’ Kevin Morby and the ever-busy Cassie Ramone of Vivian Girls again have collaborated on a compact collection of musically upbeat and lyrically depressing garage-pop tunes. Based in Brooklyn, The Babies are outwardly alive with a certain fast-paced urban sensibility while inwardly deadened and drained, a paradox their sophomore effort bitingly explores.

Our House on the Hill sparkles with the playfulness of early sixties pop without taking on its cheerful innocence. While simple chords hop about like volleyball players at a beach party, the album’s vocal performances suggest that the sand may be a bit too hot for the partiers’ liking. The Babies seem sunburned and restless, rash-covered and miserable, no matter how much fun they look like they might be having.

Kevin Morby’s voice at times recalls Britt Daniels (Spoon) or Stephen Jenkins (Third Eye Blind) and on other occasions imitates the droll flatness of Jonathan Richman (The Modern Lovers). Regardless of changes in his inflection, Morby appears consistently depressed, confessing on album highpoint “Mess Around,” “every breath I take is like a heart attack.” Cassie Ramone’s harmonies and center-stage moments hardly provide a counterbalance to a wounded aimlessness that expresses itself most sorrowfully and fixedly through the folk trot of closing track “Wandering.”

Our House on the Hill is a summer-sounding album released, somewhat incongruently, just before winter. Its chilly lyrics, however, make the transition between seasons easier. Short, snappy, cynical and cruel, each bitter little gem of a song offers a concise snapshot of a twentysomething malaise that just can’t be drank away.

Grade: B+



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