The term "supergroup" is misleading. As characteristically bloated, ego-driven juggernauts who hog precious limelight time via past glories, it is difficult to fathom many of the over-hyped efforts made by such conglomerates of talent. What the hell is so "super" about Zwan and Velvet Revolver, anyway? The Accidental — Sam Genders (Tunng), Stephen Cracknell (The Memory Band), Hannah Caughlin (The Bicycle Thieves), and Liam Bailey (Liam Bailey) — may not be coincidental parts of arena alt-rock behemoths used to demanding live emus on their backstage riders, but they are super nonetheless, and unquestionably deserve the label more than many others. Apart, they are each important cogs to their primary musical machines; together, they form a band that is increasingly garnering a lot of press for being, well, super.
Maybe "super side-project" is a more appropriate term to use for The Accidental (a perfect name for a band who came together through a series of casual acquaintances and whim recommendations). On their debut album, There Were Wolves, they tackle the oft-trampled territory of strange folk with a simple concoction of great songs and heart-warming vocal performances. Refreshingly, they sound not like bandmates who come together between holidays and rehab stints, but rather like those who share a central nervous system. Everything on There Were Wolves is catchy and well-arranged — sometimes lushly, often minimally — but what stands out primarily are the impeccable vocals.
There has been a noticeable increase in vocal-heavy bands over the last few years. The Accidental joins this new vanguard of acts — The Arcade Fire, Architecture in Helsinki, Bodies of Water — who employ a lot of unison singing, shout and response, and choral patterns, all of which are so damned effective and lovely. All over this album befall rousing vocal lines that collide and converge to form things much bigger than simple sung words. On the clap-and-tambourine “Time and Space,” all four voices are featured as one strong force before some drift off to rest awhile, returning later to the whole for some more sung fun. There Were Wolves pursues the same tactic throughout, with silky-smooth tracks ideally suited to all three tender male voices and Caughlin's emotive spark (unfortunately she only leads one song here).
“Knock Knock” begins There Were Wolves on a plaintive snappy up-step, with all members participating with weaving, effective hums, “da-da”s, and uncommon vocalic breaths. “I Can Hear Your Voice” brings to mind Simon and Garfunkel, peppy vocal band Harpers Bizarre covering their “The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy),” or perhaps the comforting feel of Judee Sill (minus the painful imagery). There are very brief forays into electronic territory that fall in line with the “folktronic” tag (Adem, Psapp, et al), but they take a backseat to a focused, simplistic aim on There Were Wolves, and it could not be a better album because of it.
In fact, the lack of a reliance on the electronic merging with folk is the most interesting aspect to There Were Wolves; whereas it is essential to the appeal of Genders' Tunng gang, The Accidental plays it straight, using those ever-present vocal sounds on top of primarily unadorned acoustic numbers. A good example is "Slice Open the Day," on which the band plays a sweet instrumental tune that bring to mind Mark Mothersbaugh's Bottle Rocket work. The track features jaunty piano and strings, and cruises along affably before voices veer into place as they ape the song's bassline with subtle “mmm&hellipba, ba, ba”s. Instead of pet-peeving us off with the annoying “weird for weirdness' sake” angle, we are treated to simple folk-pop beauties like “Jaw of a Whale,” “The Closer I Am,” and “Illuminated Red.”
The pleasant pacing is kept throughout, ending with a nice coupling of the instrumental gallop of "The Killing Floor" and the aforementioned optimistic closer "Time and Space." Elsewhere, the single "Wolves" is textbook Genders, who displays the songwriting prowess he brings to Tunng by creating pretty melodies and multiple-meaning lyrics. The track itself places men as wolves, out on the pub crawl, claiming territory and hunting in packs for female prey; a tale of those who “growl and circle at the edge” while “they drink their beer from plastic glasses 'til they find the words to make the first move.” Subtle beats and tugging strings (and, naturally, wonderful voices) guide this dynamite song.
The Accidental may not have to relocate to Cannes or establish a high-end clothing line any time soon, but they may have to reevaluate their commitments to their parent projects. Any more releases as enjoyable as There Were Wolves and The Accidental will have the right to be a bit discriminating with their backstage rider requests too.
More about: The Accidental
