We were pretty upfront about our love for Megafaun’s 2008 release Bury the Square (we put it on both our best of 08 album list and song list).  While some of us found the more wandering, less linear aspects of the record occasionally frustrating, Brian, in particular, latched onto the band’s willingness to push out into unmarked territory, abandoning lovely harmony and finger-picking for weirdness and ambiance.  Their follow-up to that record, Gather, Form and Fly is something that we’ve been looking forward to all year; it shows, broadly, a band that is developing into something new and more complex with each song.  Megafaun can still bring the freaky stuff, but their movement towards slightly more traditional song structures and an increased emphasis on truly stunning, soaring harmonies results in an album that alternately inspires awe at its beauty and astonishment at its diversity.  It’s not out until July 21, but, given that the band is touring with Bowerbirds well in advance of that date, we wanted to get you as psyched about this record as we are.  Our editor has given us the greenlight to blow this one out (two writers, several thousand words (almost), gold dust and emeralds sprinkled on the hardcopies), so buckle up.

Any sort of research, even tentative, into Megafaun reveals that the band is stacked with musicianship and brains (if there’s ever a Scrabble tournament for indie bands, Megafaun are probably 8-5 favorites to win).  Seriously.  Brad Cook describes what they’re about thusly: “I love that when we talk to each other, names like David Tudor, Anthony Braxton, Avett Bros. and the Band are mentioned in the same breath. We are attracted to people who are always searching and always honest. That’s the core aesthetic we are drawn to.”  That’s right,  Megafaun just sit around the studio and rap about David Tudor, who’s the experimental pianist you reference if you actually know what you’re talking about. (Bands that want to act as though they know what they’re talking about reference John Cage.  Bloggers who want to look like they know what they’re talking about disparage people who reference John Cage.  Quick side note: if you’re not hip to 4’33”, you should be.)  All this to say that Megafaun, the band that (along with Bon Iver) sprung from the ashes DeYarmond Edison, know what they’re doing and have the chops to get it done.  These dudes have the lexicon of modern music at their fingertips and they’re not shy about using big words.

Gather, From and Fly starts off with a slice of shimmering instrumental excellence; spare piano, some darkly edged guitar and a lush string section serve to get your feet wet with the record.  (More albums seem to be starting with the short palette cleanser.  I used to find it pretentious, now I’m starting to love it.  What does that mean?)  The first proper track announces firmly that Megafaun have found a means to harness the best parts of Bury the Square and use them to their advantage; “Kaufmann’s Ballad” is a cinematic, finger-picked masterwork, with vocals evocative of (honest to god, we are not kidding) Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.  There’s a lot to love in the tune: the tension building strings, the vaguely religious lyrical content, the understated percussion (complete with roiling gong-like cymbals) the explosive conclusion.  “Kaufmann’s Ballad” is direct and catchy, but still rife with the pioneer spirit that infused so much of Bury the Square. This track, along with “The Fade,” which follows it directly, are, we’d argue, the ones that were maybe missing from that record; they’re going to appeal to the audience who doesn’t love tape manipulation and musique concrete, while managing to not alienate the freakier crowd either.  Kevin wondered how Megafaun manage to make these tracks sound so cool.  We’re not sure, but they do.

“Impressions of the Past,” the album’s fourth track, is a signal that Megafaun haven’t abandoned the type of things they flirted with in a song like “Where You Belong.”  It’s a big, sloppy, shifting swarm of ideas, moving through a slew of tempos and sounds and hooks and styles in the first five minutes or so before dropping into a killer a capella rumination on the past that is joined by a jumpy piano line.  Forty seconds later, it all just stops, the second repetition of the line “what it is that I’m looking for” abruptly cut off.  On the 21st, you’re going to listen to this one, take a deep breath and then hit the back button, straining your ears and your brain to try and sort out what’s going on here.  The easiest answer: good shit.

The remainder of the record bounces around amongst the general themes established by these first four tracks.  There are times when Megafaun take a radical left turn into asynchronous, scattered weirdness and times when they fully embrace the more picturesque features of their sound.  A track like “Worried Mind,” which almost sounds like a Vetiver cover, can rest lovingly next to one like “Darkest Hour,” which appears to feature several seconds of  a recording of urine hitting a wall (or water falling, we’re not sure).  This may well be the brilliance of the record: three minutes of accesbile awesomeness are typically followed by three minutes of deep experimentation.  (That’s an over-simplification of both the ideas and their relative proportions, but you get the concept.)  It’s the rare band that acknowledges that they can be many things; lots of folks, given Megafaun’s obvious skill, would take a stab at mainstream success, jack up the pretty sounds and cut out the shit that doesn’t play on the radio.  Megafaun embrace a higher ethos however; to refer back to the quote at the beginning, Megafaun are looking to create an honest sound.  That’s both a sentiment which is admirable, inspiring and, most critically, capable of producing a stellar record.

Within those structures, there are some moments on the record that stand out as particularly meritorious.  The drunken blues sing-along, “Solid Ground” which calls to mind images of a washboard being played by a bearded man in overalls on a paint-chipped front porch, is one of the album’s best and is sure to translate amazingly well live.  There’s a moment when a guitar’s feedback approximates a person whistling that, as much as anything else on the record, ought to get these dudes and honorary MFA from someplace.  The last thirty seconds or so of the aforementioned “Darkest Hour” make the journey of the track worthwhile, with rousing three part harmonies that sound like they’re coming from the deck of a sailing ship.  The titular track shows of some of those modern composer influences, with lengthy, unpredictable stops throughout the introduction.  When the vocals finally kick in, after a ten second pause, they’re gentle and gorgeous.  It’s a total winner.  “Columns” sounds like a spaceship being piloted by the Clampetts.  (That’s intended as a compliment.)  Overall, it’s tough to find a track on the album that doesn’t have something to love.  It’s an album that you’re going to listen to straight through, smiling.

We’re not 100% certain, but we sense that Megafaun take their name from the gigantic animals that roamed North America before people came over on the Beringia land bridge and ate them all.  Weird, beautiful beasts (the most recognizable being the mammoth, but there was some weird shit going down in the Holocene) roamed the open plains where we now only have parking lots and strip malls.  That seems to be a fitting image for the band itself; an unwieldy and hairy giant, towering over more mundane circumstance and surroundings.  Let’s do ourselves a favor and not slay these fellows with crudely sharpened spears.  We’re going to continue our coverage of Megafaun when they come to Cleveland on July 15; given their reputation for slaying live, we’re pretty stoked. (There’s some video below if you’re not already in the loop.)  In the meantime, enjoy “The Fade” and save up some dough for the record’s release on July 21.

“The Fade” – Megafaun

Pre-order Megafaun at insound.