That first record of the Fiery Furnaces, "Gallowsbird's Bark," holds up surprisingly well after nine years. It's a bit bluesy and a bit operatic -- and very eccentric, with weird lyrics and a madcap spirit that tries on idea after idea. But every time it slides too close to the precipice of chaos, it pulls back. The pulsating rhythm guitar, the wash of keyboard behind lead under Eleanor Friedberger's vocals in the chorus of "Two Fat Feet," the lyrics about complicated romance in "Worry Worry," the acoustic guitar and tweeting birds in "Tropical Ice-Land" -- all signal an appreciation for pop, too. At the time of the album's release, the Fiery Furnaces were compared to the White Stripes because they were also a brother-sister duo (even if the Friedbergers were the only real pair of siblings), but I think their album is the better one. Complex but charming, it conveys that the fun of traveling lies in the adventure.
Now that the Friedbergers are releasing their own solo albums, it's clear where all those winning qualities came from. Eleanor released a record last year, which I've praised before in these pages. It's whimsical but smart, and wonderful. Whenever it gets too close to the precipice of pure pop, it pulls back with a small dose of chaos. Matthew Friedberger opened for the Sea and Cake at Brighton Music Hall three weeks ago with a set that left me wondering why the Sea and Cake consented to the tour. He set up two desks with folding chairs, a laptop and a keyboard. He started by signing "Happy Birthday" to himself, tried to improvise a song, and then cued his pre-recorded backing tracks, paced the stage, spoke lyrics, and pounded dissonant chords. I've never seen something so conceptually and practically bad and watched the room clear more than I did Friedberger. It seemed to be the closest I'll come to witnessing an Andy Kaufman performances, and apparently Pitchfork had the same reaction upon hearing Friedberger's first proper solo album. (That record got a 4.9, though if it had been reviewed in Pitchfork's bolder days, it would've been a 0.0, just like "Blueberry Boat," the Fiery Furnaces' bizarre second album, got a 9.6 in those heady days.)
That two personalities could co-exist like this in a band is pretty amazing. One so appealing and the other so challenging, but somehow they ended up with something that struck just the right balance in "Gallowsbird's Bark." The record is practically an affirmation of Hegel's dialectic. But when given the choice of pulling back from the edge of pop with some moments of strangeness, or diving off into a canyon of oddity, wouldn't you always choose the former? That's what make indie rock so good, no? It's catchy and charming, but you have to work for it. There's no need to fly to Mars to confirm your avant-garde status. You can still do it while remaining earthbound and appealing.
Above is "Inca Rag," quite an interesting journey of a song.
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