After an EP, In the Remote Woods (StarTime International), L.A.’s Foreign Born found themselves prancing on stage with the likes of the Walkmen and Cold War Kids, trekking coast to coast in a grease-driven van and self-releasing a limited run (500) of their debut full length, On The Wing Now. Now sold out and freshly inked to Dim Mak to give the album a proper release, the boys are ready for the next step, or so it seems.
Opening with the sparse but memorable “Union Hall,” On The Wing Now introduces the listener to what is to come; dense instrumentation, driving, sometimes tribal rhythms, jangly guitars, and vocals that ride the spectrum between nasal Hot Hot Heat party statements and (dare I say) Bono-esque climaxes. All of these things can be good in the right company, and that is where Foreign Born may still be learning.
Each song seems to jump from one side of the room to the other without giving anyone the chance to look around and try to figure out where they now stand. The guitar introducing “Trail Wall” is expectant, exciting, only to birth what seems to be a Suede B-side. The confusion remains through numbers like “It Wasn’t Said to Ask” and “In the Shape,” forcing one to wonder if they were included to lengthen the recording to an LP status.
Unfortunately, the confusion doesn’t stop there. “Don’t Take Back Your Time” sounds like a Bruce Springsteen Christmas song scrapped because of no redemption coming in the form of a savior born to rescue humanity, only the grim reality of more heartache. “Into Your Dream” tugs on the lovability of the garage rock riff and acoustic guitar jamming in the distance – sure enough to make the kiddies shake their heads to and fro. But the song falls flat and the kiddies, never dancing, will fall on their faces waiting for something more useful.
The savior does end up coming, though. When the boys of Foreign Born relax and let natural progression drive their hands and hearts, a welcome language between the band members is evident. “Letter of Inclusion” opens up to let the instruments breathe and move with each other in an honest, well written song; everything is heard with enough clarity to figure out why it is there. The acoustic stops herald the coming of the chorus; the dangling guitar notes swing into the mood of the song – driving and nearly unforgettable. Harmonizing into “The Nights Tall,” the singer(s) pull you in and infect you – the head will nod in approval and the mind will escape to places that you actually want to be. The outro beckons one to follow and you have no choice but to. “Never Wrong” dwindles the album in, hopefully, what is to come – a realization of their talents? – please. A promising follow up? – I hope so.
Foreign Born shine in the slower songs, where they seem to learn the place for the layer upon layer of possible, limitless production, and it is in these that one should build their house. The sand of the upbeat, quasi-anthemic numbers downplay the true artistry of the band, pushing them towards forgettable rather than nearly-singular. The rock of expanse and slow – this is where their house should be built.
Where they go from here is anyone’s guess. Let’s just hope it’s an understandable place – for them and us.
