Holopaw - Quit +/Or Fight

Tue 6th Sep, 2005 in Music Reviews

There aren’t many record labels that can be relied on to consistently deliver gold. Indeed, the wonders of capitalism dictate that most labels can only afford to sign a few real artistic gems, upon whom the duty falls to make up for all the pop pap the label will invariably release to ensure they stay in the black. After all, creativity, free expression and interesting song-writing may excite music nerds and critics, but it doesn’t pay the bills.

But Sub Pop don’t seem to have this problem; somehow they continue to rake in the cash without signing up populist artists. Maybe they’re kept afloat by the dividends from the Nirvana sale, or perhaps 99% of their income can be traced back to justifiably enthusiastic music fans buying Shins albums after watching Garden State. Whatever the case is, Sub Pop keeps on signing really fuckin’ good bands.

Think The Shins, Rogue Wave, Iron & Wine, Hot Hot Heat, Mark Lanegan, The Postal Service, Radio Birdman, The Rapture and a bunch of other lesser-known but quite-awesome indie rockers. Oh, and Holopaw, a six-piece from the sweaty state of Florida.

With Losing Light, Quit +/or Fight opens like a good Sub Pop release should, all lithe guitar and beautifully lazy vocals from John Orth, the lines between verse and chorus blurred. Accessible enough to instantaneously excite the legs and head, and obscure enough to touch the sub-conscious, it’s an almost haunting look at a wintery American Christmas spent alone together, melodies falling like leaves. It couldn’t be further away from the mugginess of the Sunshine State.

‘The holiday, whittled down to this,
plenty of time winding out
Waterslides closed for the season.‘

Needle In The Sway begins with reverbed guitars, high like little bells, echoing like chimes, and then a fragile, almost-broken voice:
‘Little Boy Blue,
your brass buttons are strained
Arch your back against the haystack.’ The chorus never seems to come when it should, and that’s a good thing; it all sounds timeless, natural and almost too pretty for words.

Quicker than you’d think, the album ends with Shiver Me, and the focus is squarely on John Orth’s voice, half melody (in the James Mercer mould) and half-intimacy (a la Sam Beam). Some synth strings seem to swell, the guitars keep chiming and it feels like you’re wrapped up in a blanket on a cold day. And when it stops, you want to listen to the whole thing again.

Yes, this is a band that should be on Sub Pop, if only so they receive press on the basis of their notable labelmates. Indeed, if one could only listen to Holopaw, The Shins, Rogue Wave and Iron & Wine for the rest of the year, things wouldn’t be too bad.