If being wildly prolific were the sole mark of greatness, Bren Mead and
Sean Rawls would be household names as geniuses of pop composition. As it
is, these founding members of Masters of the Hemisphere are at the very
least well-versed in songcraft, and may be just short of hitting the genius
mark.
As the little-known legend goes, Mead and Rawls were childhood chums with
an early love of music, having written over 200 songs and performed with
over thirty different bands before graduating high school. When college
brought them back together again in Athens, GA, one of the indie rock
corners of the universe, it was only natural that the duo would reunite with
a new band name and attempt to conquer the world of indie pop with their
sonic stylings. Thankfully, Masters of the Hemisphere seems to be the name
that has stuck, and Mead and Rawls have already made decent headway in the
domination department.
If their self-titled 1999 Kindercore debut revealed their ability to
create subtle and sublime low-key offerings that would make any twee heart
smile, their 2000 concept album, I Am Not a Freemdoom, made heads
turn in 180-degree style. An entire album based around a comic book (which
was included with some pressings of the album), the story of an evil dog
attempting to rule a mysterious aquatic kingdom made for a bizarre but
entertaining ride. Some hailed it as genius, others just scratched their
heads, but in that disc Masters of the Hemisphere revealed that they have as
much in common with campy, comic acts like They Might Be Giants as they do
with more austere pop bands such as Belle and Sebastian.
Protest a Dark Anniversary marks a return to basics, in a fashion.
Much more straightforward in terms of subject matter than
Freemdoom, this full-length contains songs of deceptive simplicity,
yet features the same distinctively obtuse perspective and indefinable
breeziness that has characterized all of the Masters albums. In fact, the
particular gift that seems to have been bestowed on Mead and Rawls in spades
is the light touch in all of their songs, an omnipresent lightheartedness
that makes everything they produce seem fun. If the reputation for humor
and antics in their live performances is an indication, this is simply a
reflection of the songwriters' personalities.
Protest kicks off with the lovely single "Anything, Anything", a
song about the relatively serious subject matter of being inside a failing
relationship. Yet the musical accompaniment features their familiar airy
guitar pop and a melodious calliope arrangement that sounds almost like the
Cure's Head on the Door era (think of the juxtapositions of "Close to
Me"). The end result is almost a disjointed but lackadaisical feeling.
This same feeling pervades the album's other single, the wonderful "Local
Government". With an acoustic sound that recalls old R.E.M. crossed with
Beach Boys melodies, it's a warm, inviting song that wraps around the
listener, distracting you from the lyrics, which speak of being isolated and
yearning for escape.
The core of Masters of the Hemisphere's sound is basic jangle-pop, and
they play to the style very well, but the songs are also augmented by the
talented multi-instrumentalist Adrian Finch, who's recently logged time with
fellow Athens band Elf Power. For instance, "Take Time" stands out as much
for its great horn lines, which are vaguely reminiscent of the Waitresses.
Like the calliope sounds of "Anything, Anything", the horns of "Take Time"
really become the focal point, furthering the subtlety of the guitars and
vocals underneath until they finally dominate the song entirely in
well-entwined interplay. Still, it's the basic guitar pop that dominates in
the end, and whether it ranges from the mid-'80s New Order-like tones of
"Give Me Something Clearly" to the sunny strumming of "200 Heads", this is
great indie pop through and through.
Of course, if a certain bittersweet feeling pervades many of the songs on
Protest a Dark Anniversary and results in some very easily read
songs, such as "Rules of Life" and "Summer With You", the Masters haven't
completely given up the other sides of their personalities. "Sailboat
Kite"'s psychedelia, "All Your Winning Numbers"'s ultra-mellow shuffle and
lilting harmonies, and "In the Morning"'s shift from dark brooding into
morning sun all feature their degree of inscrutability. But it's a
controlled obscurity. Whether or not the lyrics make sense in their
absolute sense, these songs invite you in rather than shut you out or force
you to overthink meanings.
Tying up all the threads of these songs is an excellent understanding of
the difference between low-fi and low-key. Unlike some of the more
popular-at-the-moment indie acts currently on the scene, Masters of the
Hemisphere don't deliberately under-produce their albums for effect. This
isn't a self-aware garage sound, but it would just as easily qualify as
low-fi. The guitars aren't blaring, the songs don't try to fill up the
space of the full digital spectrum, and you get some tape hiss
here and there. But this recording has a rich quality to match the songs, a
deceptive simplicity that is authentically low-key rather than low-fi for
image's sake.
It's this understated power that makes Masters of the Hemisphere great.
There's no escaping that Protest a Dark Anniversary is a charming
album through and through. Hopefully with their current tour in support of
Elf Power (giving Finch double duty), Masters of the Hemisphere can break
out of the ranks of obscure college bands. "Local Government" has already
made some headway on college radio, and as more people are drawn to pick up
a copy of Protest a Dark Anniversary, it shouldn't be long before
some are recognizing the quiet genius of this near-perfect band.
— 27 June 2002
