Heaven on the Faultline

Resenha do Álbum

In the '90s, indie-rock and jam-band cultures both existed—but in the eyes of cynical Gen X-ers (that same group who worried so much about their heroes "selling out"), never the twain should meet. Alex Bleeker, however, was born in 1986, making him a millennial. And that generation has an open-mindedness about cultural ''boundaries''—not to mention commerce as a necessary way to pay the rent—that is liberating. Bleeker fronts the jangle/dream-pop outfit Real Estate, who are squarely indie rock. He also cops to being a nearly lifelong Deadhead, an influence that pours freely into his solo work, both as Alex Bleeker and the Freaks and now just under his own name. You can hear it in the laidback shuffle of "D Plus" and the languid psychedelia and elastic bass of the title track of Heaven on the Faultline, the New Jersey native's latest. "I think the further away we get from this dichotomy of the Grateful Dead are one thing, and indie rock—or alternative, or underground music—is another thing, the more we see that there really don’t need to be harsh divisions like that," he told The Fader. There are also appealing soft-rock shades of America on the ghostly instrumental "Swang" and sweet '70s comedown vibey "La La La", as well as a Moby Grape groove on "Reach for My Brain." "Mashed Potatoes'' is built on an ancient blues riff. "Felty Feel" sounds like the musical equivalent of tumbling water. And it doesn't get much more fleece-and-Birkenstock evocative than "Tamalpais"—named for the iconic Marin County, California, mountain peak—and its sleepy (stoned?) take-it-easy melody. Bleeker's indie-rock touchstones, including homestate heroes Yo La Tengo, do pop up in quirky little touches—and, sometimes, in the low-key, Ira Kaplan-esque vocal patterns—throughout, as well as bleeding all over opener "A/B Ripoff." (Someone tell Zach Braff that this scene-setting instrumental is ready whenever he directs his next movie.) And that's the funny crossroads: Indie god Kaplan has, in the recent past, sat in with a Dead cover band himself. Maybe everyone can just get along after all. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz