While the title of D.C. band Le Loup’s first album is a high-art mouthful, somewhat alienating in its impossibility to remember (The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations Millennium General Assembly, for the record), that of follow-up Family is warm, comforting, and appropriate for the solid lineup that the band has now settled into. The title also says something about today’s modern family, often cobbled together rather than representing the traditional unit; Le Loup was formed primarily on Craigslist when Sam Simkoff needed a group of musicians to make his music into a tourable live act. It’s hardly the quaint tale of high school pals practicing hard and getting a record deal, but the current lineup represents a more usual if somewhat inorganic family, and, heck, they even packed up and took a stereotypical camping trip together.

Le Loup trekked to North Carolina to do the “get away from society and record an album” thing, and Family is ripe with allusions to just that. The songs creak and groan with hints of nature’s influences, bulging with suggestions of mountain fables and exciting getaways. But, a fine duality exists in the fact that the group also manipulated their found sounds with effects and loops, adding a robotic, electronic element, one that makes them into a sort of Animal Collective on mushrooms instead of acid. Nature wins when Le Loup is at the helm, and their strange noises and heavy layering plant the tracks in modern technology while never quite letting it taking over.

Indeed, Simkoff’s vocals are pastoral and sage-like, chanting words in a resounding howl as if imparting wisdom to all the forest’s creatures. The other members also lend their pipes, creating heavy harmonies that recall Grizzly Bear when they hit that spot between urgent and airy, and Fleet Foxes when delivering delicious, jumpy pop melodies. The fluffy family aspect is always there, whether it be through the sharing of vocal duties, group handclaps that seem somehow more jubilant than usual, or symbiotic banjo and guitar lines that slip in and around one another to craft both depth and tempo. The latter is aided not by a typical drum kit, but rather by bongos, bass drum, and any number of clicks, clacks, and bangs.

[group promo shot by Jim Thomson via Le Loup]

The engaging “Beach Town” begins with a clamor of weird swirls and, fittingly, seagull cries, before taking off with a bongo beat and distant, echoey singing that seems to be floating in from somewhere else. An awesomely groovin’ bass line nudges in, making the track into a true head-shaker, and slickness reigns as ominous sounds creep around in the background. It’s already catchy as hell before the guitar decides to show up, but when it does, its two-note climbing scale is nothing if not uplifting, aided by vocals that climb similarly. The guitar and the manly choir chime in as if to approve the texture the track has created thus far, or at least to exclaim “this day at the beach is awesome,” and in the end the climax is all sunshine and ice cream.

After some awkward sniffling and shuffling, “Morning Song” stands out as one of the most old-timey (and also most lovely) songs, beginning with a lazy banjo line suggestive of a classic backwoods river. It’s soon layered with an acoustic, and as their playful dance slides forward the song becomes very much like something off Fleet Foxes, not only with the addition of rich harmonies, but in Simkoff’s notably soft singing, flung from otherworldly to falsetto mountain boy. He rarely sounds this pretty on the album, but in the pleasant summer afternoon setting it’s certainly welcome. The vocal melody is so smooth and catchy that it almost seems like it could be transferred into a boy band radio hit. But just as that possibility seems most evident, it slips back to straight country jam.

“Sherpa” showcases Le Loup’s juxtaposition of the traditional and experimental by beginning with chugging, mechanical sounds that pulse through the swirls of water behind them, all before a casual, almost surf guitar line comes in. Then, just as a mechanic hum threatens to explode into chaos, insanely smiley vocals burst in with a happy group sing about brothers, sisters, and the ocean. A deep but frolicking bass and strummy acoustics join in, and eventually there’s so much going on that it seems a miracle that the song is able stay afloat. Amazingly it does, pinpointing the band’s ability to fit all their thoughts into one whole that’s the better for it.

Le Loup seem to thrive on the ability to make all of their ideas become a single song. They combine guitar folk and rock with an inclination to twist knobs and push buttons, bringing to mind potential band comparisons from some very different places. Imagining the members as one big family is cheesily good fun, but it also works to explain how a group of musicians mold their ideas into one piece. The image of Le Loup all holding hands in a chain comes to mind again and again throughout Family. And though quite ridiculous, it feels good to go with it.

[review by guest contributor Liz Levine]

Le Loup “Beach Town” (mp3)

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