As might have been
gleaned from my appraisal of their last album, I love these folks' sound. Keyboard-heavy, shady, and
subtle, Carcrashlander's songs boast an insidious sort of
infectiousness -- shifting melodic phrases combine with electric keys
synergistically, eliciting irresistible, moody nuggets like blissful
"Where to Swim" and noir-esque "Behind You in Line." Often it's
the seemingly peripheral details that make these songs; the
high-pitched synth squall melody of "Boatful of Buckeyes;" the
unexpected but not-out-of-place bossa nova of the lion's share of "Windtunnel;"
the tasty instrumental moments on the title-track. While some songs
lack the immediacy of others, not one feels out of place -- unless
you count the first 40 sea-shanty seconds of diversion "Rosie."
As one delves deeper
into Where to Swim, it becomes apparent that mood and texture
play just as
much of a role in the songs' delectability as does melody.
Frankly, these tracks are rarely tidbits of pop clarity -- they are
alluring in their overall construction, but the hooks aren't
especially overt. Nowhere is this better
exemplified than on slow-rolling "Yellow Car Tides," which
bewitchingly revels in a gradual haze of deep keys, eerie ambience,
and deadpan-ish vocals. It's a subtle expedition, but one that sinks
its claws in surprisingly deep.