Pop rock and roll somewhere between Heroes-era Bowie and The Flame-era Cheap Trick, The Lassie Foundation lay layered vocals over pools of guitars for an effect that is inviting when paid casual attention yet icy when approached.
The sonics are interesting, yet the album does not appear to reward closer attention. In fact, the opposite is true. I would have preferred some closer attention had apparently been paid to the songcraft as well as the record-making, it might have left me with a more emotional response rather than a curious, bemused one.
A re-release of the bands first, originally self-issued album, it’s long on trifles but short of perfection. But I must admit, I would prick up my ears to hear what they are doing now (a new album is said to be in the works).
In some ways writing about this band is like trying to give cohesion to a dream you had last night. You know the way things make perfect sense to you while you’re within a dream, but when you wake up you realize it’s not the way things should be at all? The Lassie Foundation are a lot like that. Listening to Pacifico, I find it enthralling and enrapturing. But when it is over, I’m hard pressed (obviously) to tell you why or single out a shining, supreme moment. It’s just a red velvet rose of a record, one that feels fine and looks so pretty, but lacks the perfection of the genuine article.
Still, there’s definite potential here. An album that is charming, but so sugary it doesn’t remain in your system for more than the time it takes to listen to it, still scores by leaps and bounds over most “rock and roll” that passes my critic’s desk much of the time.
// Sound Affects
"The man whose songs were recorded by Johnny Cash, Alan Jackson, Ricky Skaggs, David Allan Coe, The Highwaymen, and countless others succumbs to time’s cruel cue that the only token of permanence we have to offer are the effects of shared moments and memories.READ the article