[ORCHESTRAL POP] Well, Portland, hopefully you didn't
expect Typhoon to stay yours forever. A band built like a junior
orchestra clearly has ambitions no basement could contain for long. With
its third album, the group signals it has left the house shows behind
for good, setting out for pastures perhaps not greener but definitely
wide enough to accommodate its expanding sense of grandeur. The title is
ironic: Nothing about White Lighter is pocket-sized. Laid down
last summer at Pendarvis Farm then pored over for the next year, these
songs contain multitudes. Only a few exceed five minutes, but each goes
through a symphony's worth of movements, with peaks and valleys carved
from booming cannonades of guitars and drums and strings and horns and
choirs and keyboards and other sedimentary layers of sound, the exact
number known only to producer Paul Laxer's computer. Typhoon has always
been a big band. Now the music nearly dwarfs them. But for frontman Kyle
Morton, this is an album every bit as personal as those that came
before, if not more so. Much of it is framed around a life-threatening
illness he suffered in childhood. Amid the bombast, he still sings like
his vocals were recorded in a confessional booth, and there are moments
where he registers as a speck against the massive sonic landscape. In
any epic drama, though, an emotional anchor is crucial, and Morton is White Lighter's—the voice whispering in your ear, keeping you from being overwhelmed by the sheer scope of it all.
HEAR IT: White Lighter is out Tuesday, August 20.
WWeek 2015