The Wooden Birds Magnolia

Since 1995, Andrew Kenny has been releasing albums with The American Analog Set, an Austin-based rock band. Now Kenny has, for the first time in these 14 years, released an album with a different band, The Wooden Birds. It’s hard to discern, on listening to Magnolia, why he has decided to make the switch to a new band, however. If anything, this is his work at its most focused as these songs are as representative of his style as any written with his other band. There are certain sonic elements that might provide some clues as to his decision, though.

For those new to the discussion, The American Analog Set made, and may continue to make (depending on how much you read into their current hiatus), rhythmic, perfect, indie music, influenced as much by Neu as by some of the more soft-spoken 90’s rock acts, like the now uber-famous Death Cab For Cutie. It was a strange blend, but it worked. Their songs were hypnotic, but retained an emotional core through Kenny’s breathless, almost inaudible vocals. Sure, there were arty pretensions, but the songs were, at heart, about girls, relationships, and all those topics frequently dealt with in the indie rock side of, dare I say it, “emo”. It was this careful balance between sentiment and atmosphere, combined with an incredibly restrained and patiently constructed production that gave the songs a unique feel. The American Analog Set are one of those great secrets in the music world. I want to convert my friends but I want to keep them just for myself. That’s the kind of band they are, the kind that you can get precious about.

Although it would be unfair to call Magnolia an American Analog Set by any other name, there are, as I have mentioned, distinct similarities. This a stripped down acoustic take but the song-writing is similar enough for the listener to be able to imagine how these songs would have sounded if they had been recorded by his other band. The real departure is in the production. Where previously songs had often involved looping keyboard drones, those on Magnolia sound skeletal in comparison, relying almost entirely on just vocals, drums, acoustic, and bass. This has the benefit of emphasizing the intimacy of the songs. Kenny’s songs have always sounded personal and often sound even more so here. Perhaps the aforementioned hiatus is a result of the ease that comes with touring a smaller and more manageable line-up. Similarly, this is as concise and as tight a collection of songs as any Kenny has previously written. Twelve tracks over forty minutes allows each song just enough breathing space to do what it needs to do without outstaying its welcome.

Thematically, familiar territory is covered with all the longing, resignation and nostalgia one might expect. Particular stand-outs are the countrified Hometown Fantasy with its unexpected minor turn, and, Seven Seventeen, a duet featuring Leslie Sisson. Both songs are emblematic of every thing that’s great about this record, merging repetitive motifs with emotion in that unique style that sounds instantly familiar; and calling this record familiar would not be a criticism. If any thing it marks the music made by some of my favourite acts who can create an atmosphere that is distinctly theirs, something you can share with them. As with The American Analog Set, the music here is too quiet and specific to appeal to all, but I don’t think this is a bad thing. Being an acquired taste means that you have something that not everyone has, and I wish Andrew Kenny the best of luck with his new project. Listening to his music is like coming home.