ARTIST: Meredith Bragg and the Terminals
TITLE: Vol. 1
LABEL: The Kora Records
GENRE: Indie
BITRATE: 191kbps avg
PLAYTIME: 0h 37m total
RELEASE DATE: 2005-07-12
RIP DATE: 2006-01-09
Track List
----------
1. Bitter at Best 2:22
2. My Only Enemy 5:50
3. Before the Storm 1:51
4. Work and Winter 2:20
5. Early Sign 2:02
6. I Won't Let You Down 7:37
7. Cindy's Song 2:13
8. Seventeen 2:44
9. Carolina 2:42
10. Waltz No. 1 3:11
11. Shattering 4:08
Release Notes:
http://www.meredithbragg.com/
http://www.thekorarecords.com/
I hear the ghost of Elliott Smith haunting Meredith Bragg's debut-- especially
on "Work and Winter", where the semblance is uncanny. Over a gently strummed
guitar and gently tapped triangle, the former Speedwell member arcs his whispery
voice across a plaintive melody, enunciating higher notes for a lyrical phrase
before descending again to a more comfortable range. Singing just above his
natural level, Bragg crafts the tune and the performance for maximum poignancy.
It's the work of a bright student: a little self-conscious and overeager, but
nevertheless affecting.
On the other hand, the lyrics on "Work and Winter" are particularly
Gibbardesque: "Smiling as I felt your breathing align/ In alliance with mine."
It would be a little rash to dismiss Bragg and his Terminals as just another
troupe of pop-sensitive, heart-on-sleeve folkies. Admittedly, most of Vol. 1
draws heavily from obvious sources, and most of the ideas here will be familiar
to anyone who's heard Nick Drake, Death Cab for Cutie, or the New Year. And yes,
the album's aesthetic of failure-- its tendency toward extreme self-reckoning--
derives from Smith's canon of introverted and expressive songs. However, despite
these influences and even despite its Decemberistical album art, Vol. 1
transcends any accusation of imitation: These 11 tracks have their own high
stakes and dire consequences and seem as specific to Bragg himself as Smith's
were to him, as Gibbard's are to him.
Instead of mining Smith's sense of self-compromise or entertaining the DCFC
frontman's romantic whimsy, Bragg writes lyrics that are more plainspoken and
austere in their jadedness. He's wary of relationships on the bare-bones "Early
Sign", surprised that he can be guardedly hopeful on "Carolina", and, over
uncorrected guitar flubs, sweetly reminiscent on "Seventeen". All of this
introspection is couched in music that is at once intimate yet expansive,
concise yet darkly atmospheric, understated yet occasionally powerful. Bragg
sings in a soft voice, carefully enunciating his syllables as if uncertain he'll
be understood. Only when he alters his voice for "Waltz No. 1" does the album
falter, but elsewhere his risks pay off. Bragg spends half of the
seven-and-a-half-minute "I Won't Let You Down" half-humming the short melody
over and over, stoically building to something uncertain yet ineluctable.
That "I Won't Let You Down" sounds so confident and immediate is not just to
Bragg's credit, but also to the credit of the Terminals, who prevent Vol. 1 from
descending gravitationally into dreariness. Jonathan Roth's drums propel the
melodies and anchor Bragg to the world, while Elizabeth Olson's cello adds
tremulous gravity to tracks like the short "Before the Storm" and "Bitter at
Best". But it's Brian Minter who adds most to the band's sound and helps make it
distinct from their forebears. His piano makes a perfect foil for Bragg's
mechanistic guitar rhythms on the propulsive closer, "Shattering", and his
"Vibraphonic Devices" evoke a noir chiaroscuro on the dark "My Own Worst Enemy".
Bragg and the Terminals may not have pioneered their sound, but they sound
perfectly at home all the same.