In December, Stereogum ran an odd mea culpa. Having played up Yeasayer’s sophomore effort Odd Blood as one of 2010’s most anticipated albums, they walked back that endorsement in an early, first-listen review of the record that could barely concealed its disappointment. "We upped that thumb before we'd heard all 10 tracks," the site apologized.
Early buzz around Yeasayer’s Odd Blood has been skittish, to say the least, with approving reviews balanced out by frostier verdicts. “I’m not sure I’m digging this very much,” wrote one Stereogum reader. “Sorry guys… Didn’t like it,” wrote another. Those impassive responses are the most devastating ones. It’s easy to sympathize with the readers who loathe the record, or the guy who calls it “overwhelming and nauseating.” But where are the mildly indifferent reviewers coming from? Like Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilionwhich arrived to much more unanimous positive buzz than Odd Bloodthis is a record that deserves to be loved or at the very least hated.
I fall unequivocally in the love camp. For me, this is a record that makes the skies open and rain Skittles. From its opening note, Odd Blood seized my attention and never lost it or never took it for granted. Ten or so spins later, I’m still as intrigued and thrilled by the record as I was on that first unforgettable listen.
Apologies in advance, because I know I’m laying on the hyperbole pretty thick here. Would it help me regain some of my credibility if I offered assurances that I’m not a Yeasayer partisan? I couldn’t have been less interested in their debut, 2007’s All Hour Cymbals.
Odd Blood, though, is almost a do-over, a reintroduction to the band that retains some of the polyrhythms of their debut but scraps the messy world fusion in favor of a more focused examination of ’80s art-rock. The group is less interested in aping the sounds of the decade than repurposing their moods and textures. David Byrne’s soaring melodies and Depeche Mode’s mechanical grind are the most obvious touch points, but in tone Odd Blood most mirrors the claustrophobic, subversive spirit of Wire’s underrated ’80s output. That influence is felt most on the demented opening number “The Children,” where the vocals are distorted to an indecipherable, robotic wheeze, then blurred with synthesized horns. The track plays like it was dipped it corn syrup and rum, then set ablaze. Nothing that follows is anywhere near as frighteningin fact, much of the album is unabashedly bright and poppybut the burnt aftertaste of the opener lingers, a reminder of the dark turn the record could take at any moment.
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As anybody who read my one of my grumpy tirades about Animal Collective last year knows, I’m usually one of the biggest critics of indie-rock’s hype machine, but this is one instance where I think the early hype around a buzz album has actually been too muted. Even the most flattering early reviews I’ve seen for Odd Blood haven't done it justice. This is a remarkable record.
