'All My Friends Are Funeral Singers'
What The Critics Say
Tim Rutili's Califone had been mixing trad-minded folk-blues flavors with more experimental inclinations for a good decade by the time they put this album together, and the combination has grown increasingly seamless along the way. The electric drones, scrapes, buzzes, and squalls of avant-garde abandon are not isolated occurrences that exist outside the structure of the songs; they're encompassed by the structures. If anything, All My Friends Are Funeral Singers is a more lambent effort than its predecessors, but one that feels fully a part of the band's evolutionary progress. The marimba-like tones of "Krill," for example, bear echoes of Psychic TV's "The Orchids," covered by Califone on their previous album, Roots & Crowns, and the ambient folk side of the band's musical personality has been more pronounced with each release. Even the most overtly experimental moments on the album often feel homemade and organic -- more like madmen clanging around in an underground cave than sonic scientists engaged in academic exercises. Ostensibly, the big news item about All My Friends Are Funeral Singers is the fact that it's the musical companion to a film of the same name, directed and written by Rutili, about a woman living in a house full of ghosts. On tour, the band's plan would be to provide a live soundtrack to the film. This isn't their first venture into film scores, but even if it were, the real question is whether or not the album stands up on its own. It does, as it's filled with engagingly warm-sounding tunes mating melodic accessibility with a winning lyrical evanescence powered by the same kind of poetic dream logic that's cropped up in Califone's concepts before. So do those voices and sounds that occasionally fly in from out of nowhere come from the film? Who cares? They work within the music, and for our immediate purposes, that's what matters. ~ J. Allen, All Music Guide
'Roots & Crowns'
What The Critics Say
The guys in Califone are on a roll. Heron King Blues was one of the most interesting albums of 2004, and Roots & Crowns continues to build on their unique sound. On one hand, Califone's songs are pretty, melodic and acoustic more often that not; drawing musically from blues, folk, and Appalachia. On the other hand, they're radical experiments using feedback, noise, electronics and unfamiliar instruments and sounds to create sometimes otherworldly settings for their pretty songs. Factor in Tim Rutili's gift for utterly inscrutable lyrics and you've got a recipe for a band that sounds like no other. The methods remain much the same, but each time out the band brings in new elements. They bring back the "almost funk" of "2 Sisters Drunk on Each Other" from the last album on "Pink & Sour," also adding some sunny "oooh" backing vocals and a blast of Fripp-ian guitar. Adding a few horns to the mix, "Spider's House" almost sounds like it was arranged by Brian Wilson (but arranging for Califone, mind you), "A Chinese Actor" gets more into rock territory with chugging guitars and percussion and layers of noise and grit. The detailed arrangements and production are amazing: there's almost always a lot going on but there's still enough space for the songs to emerge. The sonic detail is a treat, with percussion of all sorts and electronic flotsam and jetsam all around the stereo field. Marimbas, pianos, guitars, strings, white noise, field recordings, samples and a host of other esoteric items all make themselves heard at various times. The songs themselves are easy to approach if difficult to decipher, and the production details reward repeated listens. This is a very original group who are really hitting their stride. They write interesting melodic songs, they've got brilliant ideas for arranging and production, and they've got the studio savvy to pull it all off in spectacular fashion. ~ Sean Westergaard, All Music Guide
'Heron King Blues'
What The Critics Say
On Heron King Blues, Califone continues to sharpen the attack they mounted on Quicksand/Cradlesnakes: a very natural-sounding blend of folk and blues, experimental rock, and electronic textures. "Wingbone" starts things out as an all-acoustic affair, with an understated (and somewhat cryptic) melodic vocal and pretty, complementary acoustic guitars. "Trick Bird" is next, and despite the appearance of loops and feedback, slides and scraping, the tune remains organic and folky even as it approaches the avant-garde. Therein lies the magic of Califone: their ability to create what are essentially laid-back, pretty acoustic songs, and still have the songs emerge after generous amounts of noise and texture have been added. "Sawtooth Sung a Cheater's Song" features some great junk-pile percussion at the end, while "Apple" floats on top of a murky synthesized rhythm. "Lion & Bee" is a return to the unadorned acoustic sound of "Wingbone," while "2 Sisters Drunk on Each Other" is a bit of a departure, finding Califone actually getting somewhere close to funky. The album's centerpiece has to be the title cut though: a nearly 15-minute-long delicious slab of detuned avant skronk blues that strongly echoes Captain Beefheart's Mirror Man album. Califone takes familiar elements and often combines them in unfamiliar ways without sounding unfamiliar or ever losing sight of the song. That's a difficult balancing act, and one that they pull off completely on Heron King Blues. ~ Sean Westergaard, All Music Guide
'Deceleration Two'
'Quicksand/Cradlesnakes'
What The Critics Say
With Quicksand/Cradlesnakes, Califone finally sounds like a confident, poised outfit rather than a Tim Rutili work-in-progress. It may lack some of the highlights of Roomsound, but Quicksand/Cradlesnakes makes up for it through consistency and pacing. Califone still explores the shadowlands between acoustic and electronic sounds, but the experimentation is more focused here, more in support of the song. The duo of Tim Rutili and Ben Massarella remains at the group's core, but longtime Califone collaborator Brian Deck sits this one out, and as a result Quicksand/Cradlesnakes has a sparser, less-textured feel than its predecessor. The clinking, clanging, buzzing, and scraping are still present, as well as the occasional burst of controlled feedback -- something that has followed this crew since the days of Red Red Meat. But the underlying songs are stronger than before. "Michigan Girls" and "Vampiring Again" display Rutili's often-buried melodic gift, while "Million Dollar Funeral," though brief, is possibly Rutili's finest stab at a postmodern folk song, as well as his most blatant testament of love for Harry Smith's Anthology and Bob Dylan's Basement Tapes. "When Leon Spinx Moved to Town" is Lyle Lovett on acid and "Your Golden Ass" is a rattling slide guitar romp full of surrealistic non sequiturs. The musical accompaniment -- replete with fiddles, tape loops, and kitchen-sink percussion -- is always understated and appropriate; the embellishments never hijack the songs. It's perhaps natural to view Quicksand/Cradlesnakes as a companion piece to Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot; the two bands have toured together, they emerged from the same milieu, and they both tinker in electro-acoustic hybridization. The comparison is somewhat valid -- the albums do share a similar feel. But Quicksand/Cradlesnakes easily stands on its own, and is less a bold statement of principle as it is a blossoming into maturity. ~ Jason Nickey, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Califone certainly spread their wings with this one. The inaugural installment of what was envisioned by Tim Rutili as a series of instrumental and/or improvisational albums, Deceleration One is a cinematic treasure. The album was recorded live and split into two sets, although when it's taken as a whole, it blends together seamlessly. Six tracks comprise the first set, an improvised score to film loops by Jeff Economy (who also provides sound effects) and Carolyn Faber. The second, also recorded live, originally served as a soundtrack to Ladislaw Starewicz's 1933 animated puppet show, The Mascot, a film in which, according to Perishable, "the dustbins of Paris disgorge skeletal demons for a midnight fete." Given the fairly obtuse material, it would've been extremely easy for the band to lapse into what instrumental film music, especially when improvised, usually suffers from, namely wankery and/or repetition. And while the band on Deceleration One is easily recognizable as Califone, there are no "songs," per se and the group never falls back on old familiar tricks. Intangible synthesizers, clanging bedpans, and beautiful, fleeting melodies float in and out of the ether for a mesmerizing hour. It's obvious that the band is focused and reacting to the images on the screen in front of them, and more importantly (at least for the album's purposes) creating an evocative foundation on which the listener may build their own mental film. (The strange catalog of song titles also serves as an excellent jumping-off point for bizarre daydreams.) Ultimately, this record isn't reserved for Califone completists. For fans of instrumental music and neophytes alike, this is an extraordinarily imaginative and surprisingly accessible piece of music. ~ Bryan Carroll, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
After a pair of EPs and extensive touring, Chicago supergroup Califone finally sat down to make a full-length album. Drawing on the vaguely avant-garde inclinations of their past work, the band has made yet another shotgun marriage of modern, electronic techniques to old-time American folk music. Likely one of the few bands in the country to demonstrate equal influence from Brian Eno and Hank Williams Sr., Califone make fascinating music out of the struggle between old and new sounds. They even tack on video performances of themselves in some industrial-area bathroom, heightening the tension between old-style performing values and high-tech presentation. Roomsound, recorded at the band's hometown Clava Studios, finds the band in a more straightforward mood than usual. Instead of layering endless sonic experimentation over singer/guitarist Tim Rutili's rootsy basics, the group integrates their trademark synths and drum machines into a more organic whole. The result is Califone's best work yet. "Bottles and Bones (Shade and Sympathy)" plays brilliantly with the tension between wordless, beatific choirs and laid-back strumming, while "St. Augustine (A Belly Full of Swans)" may be the finest blues number the band has written yet. Despite the disparate influences found on Roomsound, Califone manage to make a convincing whole out of wildly different parts. ~ Sam Eccleston, All Music Guide
'Sometimes Good Weather Follows Bad People'
What The Critics Say
Sometimes Good Weather Follows Bad People collected Califone's first two self-titled EPs, recapturing the band at the most reserved, tentative, and exploratory phase of its career. The 1998 material, particularly highlights like "Red Food Old Heat," lumbered with magnificent reality but rarely sounded obsessed over its own neuroses. Elsewhere, "Dock Boggs," "Electric Fence," and "Beneath the Yachtsman" from 2000 reminded listeners just how well Califone could flow through stained folk and approximate Grandaddy's "He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's the Pilot" or a post-punk Red House Painters. Regrettably, the disc's two bonus tracks, the wobbly "When the Snakehandler Slips" and an unedited version of "To Hush a Sick Transmission," would offer little excitement for longtime fans. ~ Dean Carlson, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
On this self-titled EP, Califone's Tim Rutili and Tim Hurley immerse themselves deeply in song texture. Everything is approached with a great attention to detail; the duo's working of production and arranging techniques into the songs actually adds dimensions to them (rather than being merely burdensome). In fact, at times the lyrics are in danger of getting lost, delivered as they are in a near-unintelligible style, like a man singing to himself. Rather than having the music act as a vehicle for a lyric, the songs' vocals serve a textural effect more than anything else. Califone starts characteristically, with "On the Steeple With the Shakes (X-mas Tigers)." A repeated guitar figure is laid over lazy, shuffling beats that absentmindedly change shape before your ears. A smattering of high, spacious piano notes tinkle in the background. The singer mumbles something about...well, Christmas tigers and being left on the steeple. "Silvermine Pictures" is a slice of 1960s acoustic folk. It sounds truly authentic, but warped. "To Hush a Sick Transmission" is comprised of Tom Waits-style, everything-and-the-kitchen-sink, primitive drum clatter. The song sounds like it belongs to no time, genre, or country. The same thing can be said for much of the material here. Califone creates something like ambient trip-hop folk (or how about postmodern indie world music?). The collection closes with the 17-minute anti-anthem "Down Eisenhower Sun Up With Mule." Fitting the mold at first, by six minutes the song has disintegrated into a pointless drift of sound that's about as compelling as listening to a broken amp breath. Thankfully, by saving it for last, Califone takes nothing away from the music that precedes it. "Down Eisenhower" also shows that, while Hurley and Rutili may have established new and compelling environments for their songs, they aren't at all afraid of taking them too far in the process. ~ Nathan Bush, All Music Guide
