Apostle Of Hustle -Folkloric Feel

Sun 26th Dec, 2004 in Music Reviews

Everybody needs a few introspective records. Those sort of records you can listen to at 3am and literally feel your heart being torn from your chest. The sort of record that, when you see it being performed live, makes you sob like a child. Maybe you shed a tear or two seeing The Flaming Lips play Do You Realize? Maybe you take Radiohead’s stating-the-bleeding-obvious Fitter Happier as gospel? Although I’m a graduate of the school of The Two Minute Rock Song (undertaking post-grad in The Joy Of The Novelty Rock Song), I admit that I own records by Elliot Smith, Bright Eyes and Modest Mouse. You do too? Wow, we should discuss economic rationality and contemporary prose over a de-caf latte sometime…

Sorry, I got a little sidetracked. This debut from Apostle Of Hustle arrives as a side-project of indie legends Broken Social Scene – who are in the same ‘making kids cry’ boat as the aforementioned bands. The Canucks have been largely overlooked in Australia due to a lack of proper local distribution, but like all the best bands, have a cult following – hence the local release of Folkloric Feel. The history behind the record is just as interesting as the album itself. When BSS vocalist Andrew Whiteman spent two months in Cuba in 2001, the influences he took away from his experience were embedded so deeply within him that even Broken Social Scene’s 2002 release You Forgot It In People couldn’t purge him. So he met up with fellow BSS bandmates Dean Stone and Julian Brown to create an atmospheric and experimental album, more of a cathartic experience for him than anything else. He’s done just that.

Folkloric Feel is largely composed of the sort of sweeping indie-rock grandiose that makes people cry at the temple of the Flaming Lips and The Polyphonic Spree, as well as bare-bones, stripped back acoustic-driven pieces where Whiteman’s tales of drunken fights, love gained and lost and drug deliveries become all the more poignant. The opening title track is a 6+ minute acoustic freakout. As the guitars rise and the brass and drums reach a crescendo, Whiteman repeatedly croons

“everything’s in place.
It’s on.”

While other tracks may be more conventional in both length and structure, the quirkiness which drove such BSS tracks as Late Nineties Bedroom Rock for the Missionaries is ever present. The lush, textured Sleepwalking Ballad is the tale of an alcoholic falling into the arms of another woman.

“I went into the wrong house last night and I crawled into the wrong bed
I kissed the wrong woman… what’s your first name again?
I forgot.”

The album’s production is rich, lush and vibrant. Recorded in four different places from an Italian church to Whiteman’s 4-track home recorded, the massive amount of extra instrumentation – including a trombone, harpsichord, electric mandolin, sundra organ, various forms of percussion and my personal fave – the ever-entertaining cowbell – neither outshadow the vocals or acoustics nor allow themselves to be dominated. Even guest appearances by Canadian hip-hop/cabaret legends Chilly Gonzales and Feist on Kings & Queens are respectfully – yet uncharacteristically – low-key.

But for all the stark and bold experimentation with various forms of instrumentation on Folkloric Feel – and there is a lot – the album’s strongest moments are the stripped back, more introspective ones. Baby, You’re In Luck features scant more than an acoustic guitar and some harmonies on the chorus of “it could be the drugs, baby you’re in luck.” Song For Lorea takes a minute-and-a-half to truly kick in, whereas others such as Dark Is What I Want are immediately accessible, implementing the use of slide guitar to create the most rock and roll moment you’ll get out of Apostle Of Hustle.

They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? is driven by Lucksmithesque brush drumming and threatens several times to reach a crescendo but maintains first gear, with the bass fretwork tempered by Whitman’s laconic drawling of

“who needs thinking when the drinks are on the house?
/ evaporating all the time, I was in doubt 
I’ve been sleeping with a picture of you 
love destroys all photographs, it’s true.”

Leading into the final (unlisted) tracks purely consisting of moody atmospheric beats, it’s quite startling.

So, Apostle Of Hustle, then. Any indications that this project was either a one-off cathartic collaboration or a permanent ongoing group have not been forthcoming. Certainly the ideas and styles contained within Folkloric Feel differ from the vast body of Broken Social Scene work enough to suggest that Apostle could easily continue down the Cuban-influenced path with further work. Folkloric Feel is not the sort of album you’ll ever listen to on a Saturday night (unless, of course, you’re home alone after being sacked from home / stood up / dumped / all of the above), but it is a fine record full of intelligent, complex, heart-wrenching tunes for the introspective self-pitier in all of us.