Dolly Varden – The Dumbest Magnets
This Chicago band’s third album is a dark horse of love-at-first-listen melodies, sublime husband-and-wife harmonies, and a sensual, smart pop coherence, sometimes recalling a more concise Something/Anything, or Girlfriend, or even Rumours. Could any record from an indie band named after a fish be that good?
This one comes amazingly close. Taking the opposite tack of most rock bands, Dolly Varden (led by singer-songwriters Steve Dawson and Diane Christiansen) opens with a wise whisper: twilit guitars, grazed cymbal, marimba drizzling softly, sublime vocal ache, an invitation to a dream: “Turn on the lights it’s time to leave/The car is parked in the rotary/Cover your eyes, repeat after me.”
Employing images as they do instruments — intuiting texture, color, secret connections — Dawson and Christiansen balance released associations and clear storytelling. The songs ask questions: “Isn’t it rich the way the blood goes thin?” “When it’s all over, what conclusion do you come to?” These questions await no response; they’re open-eyed recognitions of the mystery that happens when lives get tangled, when “will has broken down in stages,” when a lover’s line — “If I should die tomorrow, that’s all right with me” — becomes a double-edged razor.
The voices of these songs — even the arrangements, given a lively shimmer by producer Brad Jones — seem to know all about the terrible grace of love. But if that sounds overly sober, there’s also “Open Your Eyes”, exploding like flung light bulbs, and the Big-Starry “I Come To You”, crackling with guitars erupting in an alley fight.
“Put down that rave review/It’s bad for you,” Christiansen chides on “Progress Note”. At the risk of inflicting greater harm, here’s an end: The Dumbest Magnets is one of the most beautiful records of the year.