Midlake’s frontman, Tim Smith, is trapped in the wrong era. A neo-troubadour yearning for the days long before Neil Young,, his bittersweet second album has drawn serious critical acclaim for its modern take on wistful 1970s folk rock.
On Sunday, September 9, at the Paradise Rock Club, the lo-fi, indie rock quintet exposed itself as a work in progress. Nevertheless, the quirky bunch from small-town Texas delighted fans with a rare stateside performance.
Until now, Midlake has spent most of its eight-year career overseas. Based in London and signed to Bella Union Records, the band has not regarded their product highly enough to bring home.
However, their latest album, The Trials of Van Occupanther, landed in the top-10 of Mojo, Uncut and The Onion’s “Best of 2006” lists, as well as Q and New Media Eentertainment’s top 40. A departure from their debut, Bamnan and Silvercork, a psychedelic bomb, The Trials of Van Occupanther sounds like Radiohead toying with an America song. Filled with images of stonecutters, young brides and hunters, there’s a disarming chill in Smith’s longing for the olden ways.
“I’m not that enchanted by what’s going on today,” says the renaissance junkie, who would rather spend Saturday night reading medieval poetry than rampaging like Jimmy Page and Robert Plant in “Hammer of the Gods.”
“The nineteenth-century vibe might seem a bit odd because it’s not the age we live in, but it’s a very romantic thing for me,” Smith says. “I really enjoy classical works of art. When you listen to classical music there’s nothing but these images that go through your head, your brain and your body.”
Midlake formed as jazz students at the University of North Texas Music School, so their dexterous cohesion is unsurprising. The only member to graduate, Smith has studied jazz since he was ten. But he finds writing rock harder than improvising jazz.
True to their jazz roots, Midlake uses densely layered piano chords, basslines that never sleep and guitar riffs that run with the grain until discerningly veering off.
The primeval undertones are subtle. Beneath Smith’s confounding vocals – think Travis’ lofty cries blended with Iron and Wine’s intimate whispers – lie synthesized harpsichords, medieval string movements and puffed-out panpipes.
“I’m really taken by combinations of tones, how they are arranged and what they can do to a human,” says Smith. “Music is really bizarre and I find it very fascinating. That’s why I do it.”
On stage, Midlake’s brilliant medieval nuances are lost in the wash. The set began with rock solid title track “Van Occupanther” and closed with an adroit, extended guitar solo in “Head Home.”
Despite trading instruments mid-song and busting out the occasional flute, Midlake fails to deliver the magic heard on record. To a decent showing of diehard supporters they could do no wrong, but they should have saved the set’s loudest, “Young Bride,” or catchiest, “Roscoe,” for the encore.
They are currently writing their third release, a darker album set to pick up where The Trial of Van Occupanther left off. Maybe next time, they’ll leave out the dozers.