Papermoons, New Tales

It’s the warmth that does it. New Tales feels soft and gentle and — most of all — somehow warm throughout, like a well-used blanket when you’re really needing one. There’s barely an offensive note here, just delicately-balanced harmony vocals that make Death Cab’s Ben Gibbard sound like a thuggish ruffian by comparison, guitars that slip nicely from just-enough distortion to quiet jangliness, lots of brushed (or nearly brushed, anyway) drums, and the occasional bit of keys, all dressed up with lyrics so low-key and understated I find myself missing ’em completely ’til the second or third time through.

These guys are really something; they’re close compatriots to Winterpills, in that both bands play song that feel so delicate they might crumble at the touch, bury their emotions beneath layers of beautifully-crafted guitars and harmonies, and seem imbued with this down-but-not-out kind of sadness, the kind that kills you slowly rather than crushes you right at the outset. They hit countryish notes in a few places (“Lazy Bones,” in particular, but also “Holy Cow,” which also has some nice, Joel Phelps-esque guitars), but they can rock, too, as they demonstrate ably on the urgent-sounding “Find Me an Island,” “Car Lights” (love how both tracks amp up near the end), and the seriously Death Cab-like (and great) “Live Right.” Even then, though, the vocals are plaintive and (relatively) soft, gently pleading and quietly desperate.

Of course, there’s a lot of Elliott Smith-ing going on here (esp. on beautiful, beautiful “Bad Notes”), but with the crucial difference that unlike Smith, who constantly seemed to be just shy of going off the rails completely and offing himself (making his eventual, tragic end not all that surprising, really), Papermoons feel ultimately content and peaceful. Like I said, they’re like a blanket. This music makes me yearn for a fireplace to curl up in front of on a chilly, windy night, with the dogs at my feet and my daughter asleep in my arms. It’s music for late nights when you’re the only one awake and the TV’s (thankfully) finally off, so it’s down to just you and your thoughts ’til the dawn breaks through the trees in the backyard. There aren’t many albums out there that fit that bill; here’s one.