The cover of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero’s self-titled album shows a rainbow of muted colors coming together behind a figure. Presumably, it is Sharpe, the messianic cult-leader persona adopted by front man Alex Ebert. The image is an apt representation of the album, which draws on numerous traditions.
Ebert’s lyrics can be heard amid 1960s psychedelic rock melodies, jazzy horns, rinky-tink piano, pan pipes, a gospel choir, hipsters clapping and shouting “hey” à la the Lumineers, Brazilian drumming and a thumping upright bass. Echoing effects blur this musical hoopla into a mish mash, and not a terribly inventive one.
Beatles–y rock—peace, love and drugs—is the dominant musical and lyrical influence. This was whimsical and clever in previous albums but now sounds stale and derivative. Coming from a contemporary band, peace/love lyrics are, “some cliché shit, makes me want to cry,” as Ebert sings on “Better Days. If we want to hear someone sing that they are “high on love”—as Ebert does on “Let’s Get High”—we’ll listen to the original. Lyrics like “we’re all just Japanese when we’re high on love,”—which are intended to by zany—come across as strange and potentially racist. It’s as if the musical cult of Edward Sharpe has —like some real 1960s bands—grown over-produced, strange, and lost its footing.
Download: Remember to Remember
Grade: B-
