| Pitchfork |
Being friends with Vampire Weekend would've helped any band in 2008, but it was particularly beneficial to Ra Ra Riot and their relentlessly charming debut, The Rhumb Line, whose college rock came in similarly preppy tailoring. Plenty of this genre's practitioners have attended ritzy private schools, but these two bands sounded like it: melodically nimble and compact songs bedecked with chamber-pop sweetener and nods to 1980s art-rock. Of course, Ra Ra Riot never faced the same accusations of cultural appropriation or privilege (maybe because Syracuse isn't in the Ivy League?), but oddly enough, their detractors denounced them as even less edgy and more buttoned-up. Perhaps The Orchard is a reaction to that criticism; it pushes their stylistic range at the cost of hooks.The record's up-tempo singles rehash the band's previous sound to slighter effect. The intentionally offbeat bass on "Boy" distracts, while "Too Dramatic" is anything but, its awkward rhymes sounding like parts of a melodic chain that's missing a couple of links. The Orchard is best when Ra Ra Riot integrate plusher production into more natural arrangements. And while the rangy, chugging motorik of "Massachusetts" and "You and I Know"'s dusky balladry (sung by cellist Alexandra Lawn) meander, they at least try something new, hinting that The Orchard might be something of a grower. But as soon as they build momentum with The Orchard's most typically triumphant hook ("Shadowcasting"), the ironically titled "Do You Remember" kicks off a final third that fails to leave any impression. Any band with a successful debut is tempted to make its next album reactionary, but if Ra Ra Riot were set on doing so, they could've learned something from VW's Contra, a sonically rich and fearless comeback that sounded like the work of a band who, as our Mike Powell said, had "fallen in love with what they started and are hugging it tight without shame or apology." Instead, Ra Ra Riot sound overly self-conscious, the rural environs of their recording space failing to provide the warmth, empathy, or exuberance of The Rhumb Line. They've survived worse things than a bum album (between their self-titled EP and The Rhumb Line, drummer John Pike passed away), so it would be foolish to write them off, but The Orchard at the very least can prove that making something as effortlessly amiable as The Rhumb Line isn't as easy at it seems....full text |
| Popmatters |
| Ra Ra Riot came out of nowhere with its debut, 2008’s The Rhumb Line, crashing the blogs and gathering at least a decent amount of attention from the critical community. It’s an incredible piece of work, a cathartic, emotional indie-pop experience, and, quite frankly, one of the most underrated and overlooked albums released this decade. Ultimately, though, having released its debut in the same year as first outings from critical darlings Fleet Foxes and Vampire Weekend, Ra Ra Riot seemed to get lost in the trend-setting shuffle. More so than the debut, Ra Ra Riot’s The Orchard feels like a labor of love. One of the best things about The Rhumb Line was its sense of urgency, the feeling that these songs had something to say, that they couldn’t have been released at any later date. There is a kinetic energy on Rhumb that permeates every track, giving each word and note a sense of necessity. Not a sound or second is wasted. The Orchard is the flipside, offering a set of songs that takes its time to impress, reveling in the small details along the way. This is a good thing. The Orchard not only sounds like a labor of love, but also, in its heartfelt outpouring, like it’s about love. In this respect, the band hasn’t traveled thematically very far since Rhumb, which still seems like one of the most romantic and emotional indie debuts in a long while. Vocalist Wes Miles is a big reason why—his fragile tenor quivers with an honest vibrato that feels more heartfelt than just about any other vocalist around. Ra Ra Riot makes emo for adults. Ra Ra Riot embraces an unexpected and completely awesome influence on The Orchard: ‘80s Abacab-era Genesis, with its slick synthesizer patterns, rhythmic basslines, and monstrous, ornate drumming (courtesy of newcomer Gabriel Duquette) that ably recalls some of Phil Collins’ beastliest. The Invisible Touch is most visible during the instrumental bridge of “Too Dramatic”, where huge synths fondly echo those of Genesis keyboard master Tony Banks both in tone and rhythmic emphasis, while Duquette throws down on an assortment of busy percussion instruments. It’s refreshing to hear a band follow its own musical compass, chasing the influences that matter most, whether they’re cool or not (as for Genesis, uncool would be the case in today’s indie rock landscape)....full text |
| Strangersinstereo |
| The opening track on Ra Ra Riot’s newest album is so mesmerizing I can see why they also made it the title track. The fullness of the arrangement, strings providing uncommon lushness to an affable bassline, combined with the plaintive, but not whiny, lyrics create a completely satiating song. It also establishes a standard for the album that may have been better introduced a little later, as The Orchard’s structure as a whole is a little off balance. At first listen I was totally bored by the end of the ten song collection. However, after a few more intent listens I started to see the shape the well-loved chamber pop group was trying to give the full release. Embracing the richness of the strings and refining their more poppy antics to progress their sound is a bold goal and, for the most part, The Orchard proves the density of talent amongst the group’s five members. There remains, however, some more work to be done in curating an album. Despite the imbalance—one that struck me primarily because I have such high expectations for this group—The Orchard still surpasses the majority of music floating around these days. The complexity and emotional weight of “The Orchard” is found again in the honest vocal delivery of “You And I Know” which builds in intensity into what only can be called organized chaos then cools itself off like many a relationship analysis. It’s a fine piece of expression and I can only imagine even more so live....full text |
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Being friends with Vampire Weekend would've helped any band in 2008, but it was particularly beneficial to Ra Ra Riot and their relentlessly charming debut, The Rhumb Line, whose college rock came in similarly preppy tailoring. Plenty of this genre's practitioners have attended ritzy private schools, but these two bands sounded like it: melodically nimble and compact songs bedecked with chamber-pop sweetener and nods to 1980s art-rock. Of course, Ra Ra Riot never faced the same accusations of cultural appropriation or privilege (maybe because Syracuse isn't in the Ivy League?), but oddly enough, their detractors denounced them as even less edgy and more buttoned-up. Perhaps The Orchard is a reaction to that criticism; it pushes their stylistic range at the cost of hooks.