REVIEW: Cloud Eleven, Cloud Eleven (Del-Fi 2000)
- John Davidson
When you see the Del-Fi label, you can't help but be impressed. After all, this legendary indie was a start for many famous acts, from Barry White to Richie Valens to Frank Zappa. Right out of the chute, Cloud Eleven seems pretty lucky to be the first band to get a shot on the future-thinking Del-Fi offspring, DF2000 (dee-eff-two-kay!). Then again, with that rich history comes high expectations, and that's probably where this eponymous album falls short the most.
Cloud Eleven is pretty much the mind and talent of pop lover Rick Gallego. Like Jason Faulkner, the guy has an uncanny ability to play all the instruments (except the drums) and make it sound like a pretty tight band. The great lead-off, "Tokyo Aquarium," is a happy romp through the land of Dear 23-era Posies, and his lush, layered harmonies strongly recall Teenage Fanclub on songs like "Take Control," "Superfine" and others. He's an experienced musician, and he seems happy chasing the ghosts of the usual suspects, whether it's the early Bee Gees, the Beach Boys, or Big Star. He even goes the Freedy Johnston route on the brooding "Didn't Want To Have To Do It."
However, the album is so friendly that you may wonder what you're missing. There aren't many jagged edges in his songwriting, only dreamy exploration of relationships and easygoing melodies. Let's face it -- lyrics like "Don't make it hard/see yourself another way/you might reveal/something deep in quiet truth" (from "Show Me") aren't too bad, but they're not too challenging either. You get the feeling that Gallego poured his heart into the album, but it's hard to see his soul when you're so distracted by the beautiful sheen. In other words, for an album filled to the rim with hummable, catchy tunes, there's just not much wit about it. Plenty of sugar, but not much spice.
Still, the album isn't a case of overblown ambition. It doesn't try to expand the limits of pop music. It's not obsessed with sounding different or unapproachable. It doesn't have weird moments of "art" that leave you wondering who left the tape on while the "artist" was jacking around with looping knob. Leave that to whatever Elephant 6 band has the impulse. Instead, while not groundbreaking, Cloud Eleven has a pretty convincing album that reflects a love for '60s AM and modern indie pop. As a stepping stone for the future of Del-Fi, that's not such a bad place to begin.
