Snowglobe - Little More Lived In reviews
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| Pitchfork |
 Snowglobe formed in 1999 in Athens, Georgia, but relocated to Memphis early on, where the members have mostly remained since. To listen to the band's records, though, they may as well have never moved. You can still hear Athens in their stuffed, Technicolor indie rock, and their time spent around members of the old Elephant 6 collective is the primary shaper of their sound even today. It's an interesting exercise to go through their five albums in order, ending with this one, and consider where the indie rock mainstream was in relation to this band for each of them. When they were first starting out, they were on the fringe, but their style of emotionally straightforward, heavily arranged music has become one of the defining sounds of indie rock.
And oddly, as things have shifted further their way, they've started to take their sound in a less ornate direction. Little More Lived In has songs as elaborate as any on the band's past albums, but it also brings in more overt classic rock and country influences. In one sense it's the band's most Southern album, with its copious use of banjo, splashes of harmonica, and occasionally twangy vocals. The unfortunate thing about this shift is that the band winds up with a record that's half modern psych, half classic rock-inflected indie, and the disconnect is pretty audible. The contrast is especially sharp on the transition from "Dad" to "Tim's Piano", where the band ends one of the most humble, unpretentious songs I've heard all year-- a dryly recorded acoustic guitar-and-harmonica tribute to a father that ends with the line "I love you, Dad"-- and proceeds immediately to an instrumental soaked in reverb and choral backing vocals. Both are decent pieces of music, but they sound worlds apart....full text |
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| Americana-uk |
Shake a snowglobe and the particles float and fall making brief patterns and throwing a blanket of almost beauty onto something banal. It’s an apt way to describe Snowglobe, their music is a kind of chaotic snowstorm that sometimes leads to beauty. They are a sort of experimental pop band in the way that Number One Cup, the Olivia Tremor Control and the Flaming Lips would sound if you shredded their sheet music and suspended them into a thick liquid. A kind of collage rock, snip a snatch of string quartet, snip some indie pop, splice some gospel choir, snip some psych-pop, slice some folk, snip some Sufjan-like orchestral pop, snip squelches and glitches of electronics, add banjo and pedal steel to fade.
The use of different ingredients is a skilled exercise of shading and highlighting, they aren’t usually jerky jump cuts, more slow fades, take ‘Testosterone’ it starts like a dream pop song with vibes and a descending guitar riff, the voice climbs over the guitar, then after a while what sounds like a clarinet and the shake of bells herald backing vocals and the lament of pedal steel, and it’s not over, there’s organ to come. This is manageable as these are small flourishes rather than grand gestures, so when all the elements build to a stout climax and then retreat leaving on the strings to play out a sad coda it seems like a natural progression. Even when ‘Land Brains’ slips in a banjo and trumpet that sound like the Cavalry arriving in a Looney Tunes cartoon, it doesn’t jar, they’ve earned the right for some exuberance....full text |
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