Rating: 9.2 / 10.0Greatness never seems to come where you expect it. This year, it's come largely from young bands; an upstart band of pretentious Ivy Leaguers won our hearts on their debut, a relatively unknown Los Angeles freak-folk outfit shocked us all with a fantastic second LP, and a British dance group made it not lame to like dance music again.
The veterans have been pretty quiet this year, except for the old familiar mainstays of folk music. Not long ago, you read a review of John Darnielle's Mountain Goats' Heretic Pride here on NLtS, and now here you are reading a review of yet another exceptional folk album by yet another largely unheralded artist: Mark Kozalek aka Sun Kil Moon.
I've always been disappointed by Kozalek's previous work. I come out of his records usually thinking that they could have been great if certain things had been changed, or if this one song hadn't been on there. In short, most of his work seemed unfinished, or a little bit rushed. I didn't think about Mark Kozalek much except when he released a new album, and every time he did, I would listen to it hoping for the brilliance I knew he was capable of. Until April, that brilliance was just a hope.
This is not an album for the faint of heart or the short of attention span - the quickest number on the record clocks in at 3:56, but most are well over five minutes - but it is by far among the most gratifying records of the year thus far. It is a record that is low on kitcsch, affectations, and gimmicks and rife with competency and honesty. It is the darker Mountain Goats; in many senses, Kozalek's lyrics are more the musings of an everyman and less those of a lyricist.
All of the record's strengths are exemplified on the opening track, "Lost Verses", a meandering nine minute folk epic, a haunting meditation on memories both sweet to have and painful to have lost. Kozalek's delivery is simple, unhurried, and relaxed. Indeed, Kozalek's vocals have never been better. They are confident but reserved, honest but always tasteful (this holds true throughout the record). Behind this, acoustic guitar gently lilts with atmospheric supporting vocals anchoring down his wispy melody.
April is the barest of records; the arrangements are sparse and simple; the record flies beautifully on the strength of its songs. Instead of sounding barren, it instead comes off as fragile and vulnerable, and strikingly beautiful. The songs weave tales of romance and of loss, sung by Kozalek's sweet, rich, gloomy baritone.
For fans of folk, April is an absolute must-listen. Skeptics should stand to attention, because this record is a strong (if perhaps a surprise) contender for album of the year. It's taken a few different albums under a few different monikers, but we finally have Mark Kozalek's magnum opus. It's been worth the wait.
-PTC
