Send "The Antlers " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Lostatsea |
 For several years, pundits have been mourning the downfall of the album as a musical manifestation. Downloads have dealt the death knell to the long-player, and ushered us back to the pre-Beatles/Dylan era of singles and one-hit wonders. There may be some truth to this, especially in mainstream pop, yet in the world of artisan rock, Mark Twain's sentiment holds court: rumors of the LP's death have been greatly exaggerated. A quick gander of the last decade shows not only a firm commitment to the format, but a plethora of releases that solidify the multi-song suite as the definitive output of artistic integrity. Pick any great singer, rapper or band from the last decade, examine their catalog, and drive my point home. This leads to the debut album from a Brooklyn band revving up fast, The Antlers. Hospice is not just a cohesive collection of songs-I tepidly bring up the term "concept album." If your typical ten-song disc is on shaky ground, surely this framing device died with Pink Floyd or something. But in this case, there is more to the soundscape than meets the ear. Many in the current crop of icons have been extravagantly successful working within this framework, be it with a less heavy-handed touch than bands of yore. Almost anything by Sigur Ros, Sufjan Stevens, Radiohead, Flaming Lips, Arcade Fire, Fiery Furnaces or MF Doom can fit under the "concept" indoctrination. Loosen the meaning, and slews of others join these ranks. But what about tightening the definition, with a collection centered on thematic material so specific, the result can be called nothing short of conceptual in its literal form? Cue Hospice, an opus that takes the gloves off, and approaches the topic of dying from a diarist's viewpoint. And not the nebulous, blurred concept of death, but the detailed experience of being in an actual hospice. Of course, there is more to it, as chapters unfold and memories arise. It's a dreamy transcript freely touching on history and biography, and the results are pure poetry. Sure, death the subject is discomforting, but doesn't lots of great art evoke disquieting feelings?...full text |
| Avclub |
| There’s a lot of terror on the second album from Brooklyn trio The Antlers—which is a little strange, given that the album is fearless. Seemingly unconcerned about whether his work might be criticized as overcooked, songwriter Peter Silberman has crafted a concept piece populated with slow-motion feedback cyclones, melodies lifted from nursery rhymes, cavernous loud/soft shifts, and lyrics fixated on life’s little themes: love, death, and guilt. Reference points abound, from Godspeed You Black Emperor’s protracted moodiness to My Bloody Valentine’s pink-tinged guitar tones to Arcade Fire’s death-obsessed, life-affirming choruses. And yet Hospice sidesteps cliché, or at least overwhelms it. Songs emerge from the mist, bump against one another, and dissipate in the space of one track. There’s a straightforward appeal to the album’s dynamism and fatalism, but that appeal swells with each close listen: Slowly, it becomes clear that the album’s central narrative, in which a cancer sufferer screams at her caregiver, is a well-constructed allegory for an emotionally abusive relationship. On both levels, the protagonist pins his conscience to the fate of someone doomed to self-destruct. “Wake” delivers resolution: “Some patients can’t be saved, but that burden’s not on you.” And yet the album ends with a nightmare ballad about that lost patient. Fear persists: It’s a message that, like Hospice’s music, isn’t as simple as it sounds....full text |
| Adequacy |
| Everything about this album is downright fantastic: the story-like liner notes with italics to depict narratives and quotes to showcase dialogue, the blend of loud-soft-loud music and the way both are married to create an astonishing listen. This quintet of musicians are making a name for themselves and with Hospice, they have remarkably made one of 2009’s best albums. This music is ridiculously magical; with its noise-deafening highs and tender reservations, the band is able to provide just the right amount of balance to deliver a knockout. “Atrophy” is a somber meditation on a rejected loser, crying for help. The music is tenaciously carried out by a driving piano and keyboard line as Peter Silberman re-tells a lavish story. Buzzing atmospherics pour in before Silberman is left with only his acoustic guitar to sing, “No one’s gonna come as long as I lay still in bed beside her.”...full text |
The Antlers lyrics
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_EP_05.01.2012.jpg "The Antlers - (together) EP review")