a hotel nourishing,
Album review,
lazlo hollyfeld,
sonny baker,
steak and cake,
tom,
wooden waves
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Last week the pro-local DIY-ers Steak & Cake Records released Sonny Baker’s record Here are those freaks you’ve been asking for. The 5-track collection is the debut effort from Baker, a local storehouse of indie talent as he currently divides his time between three other projects, that being Lazlo Hollyfeld, A Hotel Nourishing, and Wooden Waves, all of which have played a prominent part in WNY music scene in the past few years. That being said, you might want to check out our interview with the musician from yesterday here.
Here are those freaks is Baker’s indie pop record realized, and it covers a hell of a lot of ground in 5 short tracks. While many of these songs have started out as folk demos via an acoustic guitar and tape player, they have blossomed into multi-instrumental collages of textural songwriting. Front and center is Baker’s crowded, chaotic vocals. His thoughts are sporadic as they are plentifully multi-layered. Intricate splashes of guitar and percussion bubble-up in each track, but the record never loses its froth even as each track is piecemealed into various directions, shaking-up the traditional pop song mundanity of verse and chorus.
“Cripple Fantastic” is an intriguing start to the record with it’s looped guitar fade-in and teeth-chattering snare, and Baker’s voice coats it all in its gradual complexities. It’s hard not to appreciate Baker’s signature fast-paced vocal style. The songs can get a bit labyrinthian, which could result in a difficult listening experience for those with short attention spans looking for a immediately catchy song, but if you pay close attention you’ll notice Baker’s songs are more like developing photographs in a darkroom--they slowly unfurl, and you suddenly see the images coming into focus.
Another track brimming with detail is “Up to my Chest, Covered In Lead.” With wild guitar riffs amid organ blips, Baker’s vocals sprint a hilly landscape as convoluted instrumentals pant in their attempt to keep up. “Hallucinating, it’s a Steady Moan” gives us a moment to catch our breath, even if it’s a brief two minute cool off. Baker yawns a lo-fi drawl as he sings, “I try to find a heartbeat / Who cares any more,” even as electric guitar riffs start to infiltrate the folk-rock track.
Unlike a lot of failed pop records, Baker’s never gets boring to listen to because he is constantly shifting colors and speed in an attempt at a sonic bouquet that comes very naturally to him. There are certainly comparisons to be made, Born Ruffians and My Morning Jacket to name a few, but there is something so varied about Baker’s style that makes you wonder why he’s not in two or three more bands, if not only to offer a guitar track or two. Much like a drive from Buffalo to Toronto, Sonny Baker’s music covers a vast and densely populated landscape, as it progresses from lo-fi, humble beginnings to vast and uber-developed songs, and even when you’ve arrived at the conclusion of the record, there is still so much more to discover about it.
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