Tapes n' Tapes Outside

The second half of the noughties will always be remembered as a time when blog-heavy music criticism brought to issue the relevance of academic opinion. After much praise from the general public, Tapes n’ Tapes had gained an esteemed reputation regardless of any foul opinion from a superfluous print publication or a hundred word proof master. Their slightly oft-kilter personality and lackadaisical, midwestern likability was enough to cement a stand-in position in a former booming independent rock scene. While Clap Your Hands Say Yeah followed up with a wholly obstruct art piece which challenged to distance its fan base, and Arcade Fire stepped it up a notch to clinch the reign of supremacy, Tapes n’ Tapes continued to be, well, themselves.

Tapes n’ Tapes had spun the wheel and won the prize, but the grand prize was too scant to secure a life-long place within the rock elite. More than ever, blogs are at their dominant peak; they’re also too self-aware of current trends, dismissing any artistic merit that’s beyond their fleeting consciousness. With Outside, Tapes n’ Tapes have it really tough because, frankly, they’re questioned by those who originally praised them in the first place. There isn’t a fiery polka rendition like Insistor to distinguish them from the pack, nor do they bustle through with the run-for-life acoustic vigor that Cowbell ignited to a crowd of bobbing heads.

This here is a new, impromptu version of Tapes n’ Tapes. Instead of evoking whim and mischief, Outside is borne out of a different mentality. Badaboom sounds truly confident, delivering an onslaught of a-la-Radiohead sonics and mighty guitar riffs. They’ve also discovered the delights of using the harmonium – the passive air keys that comprise SWM compliment the weepy, acoustic melody until building up with Josh Grier's desperate plea, which rings with candid despair. Same goes for Mighty Long, a reemerging of classic Tapes n’ Tapes rock modesty and sweet self-deprecation; also, that darn harmonium ornates the bridge and chorus with the words i'll call you a halo tonight, which ought to produce instant watery eyes. Though they hint their past throughout, Freak Out is a real stunner – a sumptuous break out of chord progressions build up until stampeding without a warning sign in place. The one track that shows a progression of both old and new is On and On, a slightly askew disarray of wind instruments and light chord play that oddly fits with the minimal, droning synths.

But just like every Tapes n’ Tapes release, there’s always a mixed assortment of indulgent ideas that seem out of place: The Saddest of all Keys overplays the organ/freak show a bit too obviously, Nightfall finds them falling once again for trumpet fanfares, and Hidee Hoo follows the Walkmen playbook too strictly. Otherwise, Outside sounds a bit shrewder, ready to show their onetime glorifiers how they're capable musicians in it for the long run, waving proudly past the buzz scene. The results aren't entirely surprising, but it's nice to know they're flipping the bird to skeptics with their tried-and-true indie rock.