That list of like-minded artists wasn't put there by accident. Sunburned Hand of the Man, Polyphonic Spree -- they're all goddamn cults. And Cerberus Shoal is no exception. If you like to follow Wire magazine, you'd find yourself calling this "New Weird America," but the truth is, Cerberus Shoal are simply from Portland, Maine; not too weird after all.
Certainly a regional fascination, Cerberus Shoal waves the free-folk flag high in the name of thirteen-minute songs, esoteric percussion instruments (the cornerstone of hippie-dom), and a unique take on the extended jam. With the release of their seventh full-length, Bastion of Itchy Preeves, Cerberus Shoal try to place themselves at the forefront of the scene with mixed results.
There are some great moments here. Abandoning the rambling, ramshackle groove that starts "Bogart The Change," the band shifts gears after three minutes to revert to a steady groove with nice melodica sounds, chant-like singing, and grandiose choral-backing vocals that brings to mind Polyphonic Spree when they are actually enjoyable. On the similarly lengthy "Tekel Upharsin," the band is given space to gather ideas and take chances, such as the inclusion of a banjo coupled with a tin-pan alley shuffle from hell.
But unlike the similarly inclined Sunburned Hand of the Man or No Neck Blues Band, Cerberus Shoal seem to use their albums as a giant canvas for all of their ideas, never quite molding them into specific strengths. Whereas Sunburned Hand of the Man know that they can find a steady groove and ride it when they see fit, Cerberus Shoal seem uninterested in finding a particular sound to focus on. Unfortunately, this works against them.
Wile free-folk may demand that all rules are thrown out the window, Bastion of Itchy Preeves only occasionally showcases moments of greatness.
1. Grandsire
2. A Cloud No Bigger than a Man's Head
3. Bogart the Change
4. Shaky Bull
5. Baby Gal
6. Train Car Nursery
7. Tekel Upharsin
8. Nonex
9. Marimus
10. A Head No Bigger than a Man's Cloud