Send "Dan Mangan " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Popmatters |
 Dan Mangan’s best song, “Road Regrets”, was an endearingly straightforward bit of melodic folk-rock, rich with the romantically cynical posturing of a prematurely grizzled young troubadour, that occasional by-the-book example of a sturdy pop/rock formula that actually makes you glad that someone still reads. Imagine hearing it over the din of crowd noise and breaking bottles in a small, smoky Canadian bar as you sway along, beer in hand, to its square, stomping rhythm and you’ve captured it in its ideal setting. Its accompanying album, Nice Nice Very Nice, was, for the most part, similarly tuneful and likable, winning a fair bit of acclaim in Mangan’s native Canada upon its release in 2009, enough that indie stalwart Arts & Crafts picked it up for international release a year later. A spot on the 2010 shortlist for Canada’s prestigious Polaris Music Prize further cemented Mangan’s reputation as one of the country’s most promising new artists. For his follow up, Oh Fortune, Dan Mangan appears to have taken this success as a spur to more grandiose designs. The album opens with an overture-like introduction that moves into a string-laden waltz by the time Mangan’s bruised, plainspoken voice makes its first appearance. Things only get even more ornate from there. A quick glance at the album credits confirms the presence of a veritable army of musicians here—note that Oh Fortune employs the use of individual contributors on French horn, trumpet, clarinet, viola, saxophone, cello, trombone, organ, flute and violin in addition to Mangan’s own regular four-piece band. We are a long way from the simple, nearly archetypical pleasures of “Road Regrets” here. As jarring as it is, though, Oh Fortune could be said to represent a perfectly logical next step for Mangan. This kind of lushly orchestrated, large-scale rock album has plenty of contemporary precedent, particularly in light of Arcade Fire’s recent slew of honors (this year’s Polaris Prize included) for The Suburbs. Mangan clearly had some of his more ambitious peers in mind on this album, particularly on songs like “How Darwinian”, with its spacious Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-like atmosphere, or “Post-War Blues”, which plays almost like a pastiche of the sprawling guitar anthems of Titus Andronicus. Album centerpiece “Starts With Them, Ends With Us” even borrows from multiple sonic touchstones at once, beginning with something unmistakably resembling Arcade Fire’s brand of rumbling, widescreen drama before exploding into a grand horn crescendo of the sort that Bright Eyes occasionally indulged in on its more far-reaching recordings....full text |
| Guardian |
| If you're going to connect with people, Dan Mangan wrote in the Guardian last week, "you have to get vulnerable". Sure enough, the Canadian's third album is a record to turn to in moments of irresolution, not because it provides any answers, but because Mangan seems to be asking the same questions. "What happens when all flags burn together?" he wonders in Jeopardy, over lilting guitar and cheerful trumpets. "Is that unity? Is it meaningful to be angry? Who's angry? Are you angry? What is angry?" He can switch from personal to political in a flicker, and the knotty orchestrations of his backing band – chiefly comprising improv jazzers – share that fleetness of expression. In How Darwinian, Mangan mourns that "people don't know what they want, they just know they really want it" over a static electronic burr – and just as he adds, "I should know better by now", guitars silence the buzz with melodies so friendly they glow....full text |
| Bbc |
| Canadian singer-songwriter Dan Mangan has an impressive CV – he’s toured with the likes of The Decemberists and Okkervil River; his second album, Nice, Nice, Very Nice, was nominated for the Polaris Prize; and he’s graced festival stages as prestigious as those found at Glastonbury and, stateside, Sasquatch. But this hard work, particularly domestically, is yet to translate into widespread recognition on these shores. Oh Fortune, arriving too late in the year to make the annual best-of lists, is unlikely to change that standing; but this is a delightful collection which could become a late-2011 favourite amongst fans of Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes and even Mumford & Sons. His third album presents a fuller sound than its predecessor, Mangan – a beardy 28-year-old with eyes that could tell a thousand tales without him so much as opening his mouth – now confident to let his voice tear away from the alt-folk crowd that he was once a part of. Instead, he leads rallying calls on tracks such as Post War Blues – a close cousin of Mumford’s more boot-stomping fare – and the title-track, which rides gentle Americana undercurrents to a state of completion that could, in a parallel world where quality genuinely equals success, have whole venues singing along to its dipping and soaring vocals. Of the gentler cuts, which do still dominate, Leaves, Trees, Forest is a particular highlight, gorgeous harmonies drifting behind simple but catchy acoustic motifs. Here, Mangan reins in his voice, speaking rather than singing for the most part. Chamber-pop-styled opener About as Helpful as You Can Be Without Being Any Help at All has an air of The Delgados about it – if the Scottish indie legends had developed a penchant for simmering shanties after a Buckfast session too many. It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to look for, so they say – whoever ‘they’ actually are – and by releasing Oh Fortune in the UK now, some months after it emerged in the US and Canada, has ensured its voice will hardly be heard by music writers and mainstream listeners alike. But it’s a set that does reward investigation, perhaps not with lasting love but certainly first-few-plays impressions which will last into the New Year. If your albums of 2011 have been those by any aforementioned parallels, pick this up to chase away the winter chills....full text |
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