unimaginative?Īs it stands, the Polyphonic Spree are the musical approximation of saccharin, in that they make a great substitute for pure, unadulterated twee. So then why does this, the Spree's first album, released on DeLaughter's own Good Records label, seem so. In fact, the evening could have easily found the Polyphonic Spree upstaging any number of lesser headliners, were they not Built to Spill. DeLaughter's warbling vocals, unwavering heavenward gaze, and beaming smile seemed to speak for the entire group (which consists of two percussionists, a choir, and a theremin player, amongst others).
What ensued was a revivalist get-down that would put any Episcopalian minister to shame. But as I stood there, waiting for a vat of Kool-Aid-flavored cyanide to make its appearance and confirm my deepest, darkest fears, I began to notice the song that was stirring to life on stage. As my eyes discerned the familiar form of ex-Tripping Daisy frontman Tim DeLaughter, my first inclination was to scale the four-foot protective barricade that acted as the group's metallic moat and shake him vigorously in an effort to deprogram the fallen Texas auteur. Having had no formal experience with the Polyphonic Spree, I ignorantly deduced from the name that I was in for about an hour of freely traded rhymes about pop culture and sneakers, the way the Sugarhill Gang used to drop it, while 25 figures clad in nothing but unkempt white robes and Cheshire-cat smiles slowly lumbered onto the stage. So with high spirits and a slightly altered dieting plan for the proceeding month, I bought the ticket and took the ride. But anyone will tell you that the call of Doug Martsch is not to be ignored, even if he is touring in support of a mediocre album. Actually, my pocketbook and an invoice from Wells Fargo were both fighting to dissuade me from blowing my last $15 on such an obvious one-night stand. Though this makes for a different kind of listening experience than fans might be used to, it's one that's ultimately pretty satisfying, feeling like it's not just manifesting the will and desire of the Polyphonic Spree's fans, but also reflecting the mission of brightness and hope that the band has been on for over a decade now.You see, when the Polyphonic Spree came through town opening for headlining heavyweights Built to Spill, my pocketbook told me not to go.
Because of this, Yes, It's True is a surprisingly tight album, and even as songs like "Raise Your Head" return to the sort of rhapsodic heights Tim DeLaughter and his merry choir work at, it still feels incredibly focused. Although this doesn't diminish the good vibes the Polyphonic Spree are putting out, it casts them in a more direct, no-nonsense light, as if they're on a mission to bring positivity to the world rather than just allowing it to passively shine out of them. A lot of this feeling comes by way of the album's percussion work, which often has a propulsive, almost marching quality to it. While the album shows plenty of the band's trademark ebullience, it's tempered with a feeling of heaviness that feels different from their other work. While artists have been making albums for their fans for years, the recent advent of crowdfunding now finds artists in a position to make an album because of their fans, a move that seems only natural for cult-like psychedelic symphonic rock collective the Polyphonic Spree, who reached out to their fans to help fund their fourth album, Yes, It's True.
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