The Sharp Things "Here Comes the Sharp Things"

I never find myself defending bands that are guilty of following trends. If I want to hear a record by a band that sounds like Built to Spill, Grandaddy, Radiohead or Spoon, I'll usually pull out records by...Built to Spill, Grandaddy, Radiohead or Spoon. Nothing's more refreshing than the taste of originality, and at the end of the day, I don't really want to subsidize imitation, especially if the original is really, really good. However, it's become extremely obvious that there's a new trend in music: orchestra pop. The genre has been well-defined by artists as diverse and interesting as Brian Wilson, Phil Spector, Scott Walker and Burt Bacharach, yet all of those wonderful souls have never actually formed a standing, fully operational band.

It's also true that a few bands here and there have often employed orchestration, but it's been a bit rare for the band itself to be the orchestra. Over the past few years, I've been enthralled and fallen in love with The Polyphonic Spree, Plush, Pearlfishers, Sarah Shannon, Divine Comedy and Paula Kelley, simply because their music is primo orchestra-pop. I'd like to add another name to that list, New York's The Sharp Things. Though they've been around for a few years now--having formed as a concept in the mind of mastermind Perry Serpa well over a decade ago, and they also recorded an album's worth of material in a one-night session two years ago--this is their debut album, and one thing is quite obvious: the wait was worth it. The Sharp Things spent years working on their songs, and in so doing, they pretty much guaranteed that their first album was going to be one heck of an impressive debut.

Mission accomplished, then. Here Comes The Sharp Things is one of the jaw-droppingly wonderful pop albums of the year, bar none. This eleven piece (plus numerous friends, including Grasshopper from Mercury Rev and Mike "Sport" Murphy) orchestra-chamber pop group makes lush, pastoral music that's lovely, lush and quite moving. The music is a nice balance of heady folk and lighter rock music, but it's both darker and lighter than that description I just gave you. You'll easily be reminded of the better parts of Scott Walker, Left Bank, and even Simon & Garfunkel. It's also worth noting that Serpa often sounds like a dead ringer for David Bowie, too.

Unlike most pop albums of this type, Here Comes The Sharp Things is perhaps the first time I've ever wished that a wonderful singer would SHUT UP for a song or two, because the backing music deserves to be heard. Don't get me wrong, Serpa is never anything less than wonderful, but on songs like "Vacationing" and "Precious," the accompaniment is so dreamy and melty, vocals are intrusive--even though both songs have some of the most intelligent lyrics you've heard all year! I'm telling you, man, Here Comes The Sharp Things is the total package of pop. The music's tight, the musicians never miss a beat, and the only thing that is better than Serpa's singing are his lyrics. Never too obtuse, never too heavy, Serpa's singing and songwriting evoke a different, more literate time, where Serpa croons to an audience wearing his Ray-Bans, and rushes off after the show for a midnight drive through the city in his XKE.

If it means anything, I can't name a favorite song on the album, because every song on is equally mindblowing. If I have to, I'll say that I'm partial to "Lament/A Million Things," "Vacationing," and "Missing the Daze," though that's only my opinion right now. I'm sure it will be three different ones the next time I listen to it. All of the cuts on Here Comes The Sharp Things are brilliant, and it's been a long time since I've been able to honestly say that. If When you listen to it, though, be warned; if you're wearing anything less than formal attire, you will feel embarrasingly underdressed. The Sharp Things could be described in one word, it would be class. Here Comes The Sharp Things is the smartest, most literate and best-dressed record you'll hear all year. Those other bands? They're great, but as wonderful as they are they'll never be sharp.

--Joseph Kyle