You Should Be At Home Here

Presentación del Álbum

The cover of Carissa's Wierd's (yes, it is supposed to be misspelled) album You Should Be At Home Here depicts a little toy skeleton. It's an appropriate introduction to the music, which often sounds morose, with eerie strings and processional march beats. But Carissa's Wierd's songs are always touching and intimate while evoking a sense of importance -- like Godspeed You Black Emperor! recast as an indie rock five-piece. This is a band always on the verge. During the climactic strains of "The Color That Your Eyes Changed With the Color of Your Hair," you half-expect to hear the sounds of thunder clouds rolling in -- there is some sort of storm brewing, for certain. "A Loose Hair Falls Into a Glass of Water Without Ice" could be an early, lo-fi Built to Spill track. The title track is the most resonant on the record -- filled with hushed vocals and guitar reverb. There's no feedback to be found, but somehow the song evokes Dinosaur Jr.. The epic, ten-minute-plus, part folk song, part experimental noise piece "The Part About the Vine Thats Growing Through the Window and Reaching Towards My Bed" has the slow-fi intensity of Low. But Carissa's Wierd is a difficult band to draw comparisons to. In the end, their use of violins brings to mind the dream pop outfit Hugo Largo, first introduced to the world via a rather academic pseudo-album, Brian Eno Wants You to Hear Something, and subsequently released through Eno's label, Opal. But Carissa's Wierd is darker. On the lyric sheet included with the album, the lyrics are all crossed out -- and this best embodies the conflicted feelings that the band represents in their music.

© Charles Spano /TiVo