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![]() PAST MASTERS: The Old Believers make old sounds new again. IMAGE: Josh Elliott |
[July 9th, 2008]
[GOLDEN NEWBIES] It would be misleading to say that Nelson Kempf and Keeley Boyle—the ridiculously young duo that performs as the Old Believers—are coming into their own. From all indications, the Alaskan transplants were just born this way—playing crushing, refined Americana pop while most of their peers were lowering their expectations and applying to community college. And on the Old Believers’ second effort, Eight Golden Greats, Kempf and Boyle are following their wandering muses away from the folk-pop that’s garnered them attention and into exciting, uncharted territory instead.
This is evidenced right off the bat on Eight Golden Greats. The string-filled opening number, “There it Is,” begins with a stand-up bass and Kempf’s deep, wide-mouthed drawl (think M. Ward crossed with the Arcade Fire’s Win Butler), but quickly forsakes the duo’s once-spare sound thanks to a rapidfire drum machine and mechanical clap. “No More,” scandalously, opens with a digitized but Frampton-esque talkbox (quickly contrasted with Boyle’s pure croon and a cascade of finger-picked guitar and banjo). For an outfit that garnered considerable attention for its stark, acoustic debut EP, these modern elements hit like a Pontiac GTO rolling across the horizon in a spaghetti western. The Old Believers refuse to be your old-timey bitches. That’s a good thing.
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While Eight Golden Greats is a transitional record, it’s remarkably free of growing pains. The songs are unapologetically romantic, but investigate romance with the same fearlessness that the Believers explore the studio. “Someday we’ll let out into the air and our sweet love will seep into the ground/ We’re just getting older, that’s all,” Boyle sings in front of a choir on “That’s All.” It should sound funny coming from a 20-year-old, but it just rings true.
As tight as this duo is, it’s a little awkward when Kempf occasionally allows his vocals to wander like he’s speaking in tongues. But maybe he’s just shaking off what’s expected of his band, which delivers an album that’s less a well-researched term paper on Heroes of Indie Folk than it is a very impressive dissertation all its own.
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