The Rural Alberta Advantage, “The Wild”
When Hometowns landed in 2009, some thought they had discovered Neutral Milk Hotel reincarnate in The Rural Alberta Advantage. Guitarist-vocalist Nils Edenloff had the atonal voice, and his act had the subdued rambunction, lo-fi scrappiness, and gritty independence popularized by their forebears. Unlike Louisiana-based NMH, which powered its indie rock from the front of the stage, RAA generated its energy at the back via acclaimed drummer and human-battery Paul Banwatt. His restless, wrist-breaking rhythms, best heard on early tracks off their 2009 LP like “Drain the Blood” or “Four Night Rider,” elevated run-of-the-charts folk rock to thrilling, superterranean heights.
That was then. Over the course of eight years and three albums, RAA has slowly but consistently shifted the center of gravity forward from Banwatt to Edenloff, a frontman who, Pitchfork panned, “basically limits himself to the first eight chords a beginner learns on guitar.” It’s an unfair comparison when you consider the pantheon of singer-songwriters who have subsisted on a lean diet of simple chords. (Robert Johnson? Buddy Holly? Neil Diamond? Taylor Swift?) Still, RAA’s latest record, The Wild, doesn’t reverse the forward slide from drummer to guitarist, even as some tracks — like “Toughen Up,” or “Dead / Alive” — return to the winning formula of old.
The best and worst of the album manifest on “Brother,” the lead single, which begins like a cover of one pop-folk-rock band ends like that of another. The verses are short, repetitive, and hasty, as if sharing your wish to rush ahead to the chorus, when Edenloff can strain his affective tenor and bellow “through the dark tonight / I’m coming back for you.” Catchy, crisp, and common — Verse, chorus, verse, chorus. Rinse and repeat.
That’s not to diminish the leisure of a downtempo guitar ballad, or hit at a genre that’s been written off as derivative since Bob Dylan started mainstreaming old spirituals in the 60s. But for the group that made “Don’t Haunt This Place” — inventive and evocative, technically audacious and emotionally pugnacious — The Wild is hardly a shadow of its predecessors, let alone In The Aeroplane Over the Sea. Both are straightforward works of four-chord rock, but only one manages to wring the flavor from its spartan ingredients.
Despite evident talent and past success, The Rural Alberta Advantage has failed to emerge from the generic drone of indie rock. Their fourth album is vanilla: plain, pleasant, and, however harmless, missing the special something that justifies its lone consumption.
October 13, Saddle Creek
