Instead of creating warmth and nostalgia, the crackly, song-submerging production comes off as generally alienating, consciously far lower in sound quality than the pop hits of yesteryear Ebert cheerily apes and expressively transforms. Ebert seems to have a romantic idea of lo-fi recordings, forgetting that most great acts who resorted to the techniques the band uses on the record did so out of DIY necessity and were more than thrilled to use better technology once their budgets permitted. Unless Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros have already spent the money they've made from being featuring on NFL commercials, the group has no excuse for intentionally sounding broke.
Gripes against production choices aside, Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros is an enjoyable listen beneath the "did-I-just-download-a-crappy-32-kbps-copy-of-this-album-or-is-this-actually-how-it-sounds" coat of sonic sludge that dampens everything a bit. The songs themselves, divorced from the slumming recording style, are breezy, fun, full of psychedelic fervor and gospel-of-love preaching. Whether calling listeners to "come celebrate" the difficulties of living on "Life is Hard" or espousing mass love-intoxication on the winding, jangling, brilliant "Let's Get High," Ebert rises above the fuzz and exudes the messianic confidence his alter ego is sworn to project.
The grab-bag of Beatlesesque Magical Mystery Touring, Age of Aquarius promising, and pseudo-Motown and reggae dance hall-hopping, covered in coos and claps, is as wonderful as anything The Magnetic Zeros are capable of. Though over-long and (very) occasionally lackluster, Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros is by-in-large a charming affair, closing with "This Life" in the Key of Surprisingly Honest Self-Reflection. If only the band hadn't felt the need to stamp out their ecstatic strengths with fourth-rate recording equipment...
Grade: B
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