If your moderately successful indie rock band is looking to make its breakthrough record, the solution is simple: have the lead singer damage his vocal chords, then nurse him back to health with whiskey and Bob Dylan. At least that’s what The Helio Sequence’s Brandon Summers did, and the result is the band’s standout fourth album, Keep Your Eyes Ahead.
Like a kid who’s finally figured out how to sport his clothes, their new, mature sound has allowed the Portland-based duo to emerge from the forgettable blur of Band of Walkmen-style groups and distinguish themselves with gauzy harmonies and folk attitudes. What The Helio Sequence have now that they lacked on 2004’s nevertheless ambitious Love and Distance (the extensive touring behind which devastated Summers' vocal chords) is personality and, trite as it may be, an edge. The opening yelps of “You Can Come to Me” channel the Father of Folk Rock himself, backed by instrumentation that is, for the band, unprecedented in its focus and consideration. Similarly, “The Captive Mind” is a quietly moody composition of soaring, layered harmonies that evoke the more stirring moments of Interpol’s Turn On The Bright Lights. And while The Helio Sequence make other stylistic nods to their peers — from Isaac Brock’s rhythmic grumble to The National’s nighttime brooding — what sets them apart is their ability to appropriate such allusions. The result is a band that distinguishes itself in a genre rather than blends into it.
With their second LP on Sub Pop, The Helio Sequence have finally produced not just a collection of songs, but an album. That said, there are certainly a handful of tracks, such as the hazy “Back To This,” that slip into good-but-forgettable territory; the band should take pains to keep their sparkling keyboards and bouncing percussion from getting formulaic. However, they’ve artfully organized the album so that even less memorable songs still catch your attention.
Perhaps the most significant moments on Keep Your Eyes Ahead are not in its post-rock fine-tuning (though you’ll likely put its eponymous slow-motion dance song on repeat), but in the incorporation of the band’s movement toward bare-bones folk. After the album’s first few driving numbers, the listener is punched in the gut by “Shed Your Love.” Opening with the line “Drank the dark wine/ Of the New York night,” Summers reveals the story of a relationship brought to its knees. And as his voice floats around ambient sighs and the forgiving pluck of an acoustic guitar, you’re soon brought to yours. These moments, and those on similar tracks like “Broken Afternoon,” prove The Helio Sequence’s ability to stir something far greater than just the tapping of feet. And if the duo continues to merge such stylistic versatility with emotional and lyrical integrity, there can only be great things ahead to keep our eyes on.
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