Since The Fiery Furnaces announced their hiatus five years ago, the division of labour within the sibling duo has become apparent: Matthew Friedberger was the adventurous, experimental element, favouring prog structures, unusual melodies and unpredictable sounds; sibling Eleanor seemed to keep those outlier tendencies grounded in melodic, indie-pop song-writing. At least, that’s the conclusion to draw from five years of solo projects – Matthew has all but disappeared down a wormhole of challenging and creative endeavours, while Eleanor has refined her identity as a purveyor of classic-form singer-songwriter rock over two albums. New View, a third solo album, doesn’t do much to portray Eleanor Friedberger in a different light, but it’s a charming listen nonetheless.
Friedberger has always drawn on a particular strain of 70s rock and pop – a very American, traditional style, the Neil Young and Van Morrison sounds of a previous generation’s record collection. There’s lots of chunky guitar riffs, organ chords and retro-sounding synths, creating a sense of classicism. Much of New View feels timeless, in that it could have come from any point in the past forty years, but with a singularity that elevates it beyond its influences. Friedberger has always been a fascinating lyricist, and New View is another showcase of her idiosyncratic wordplay, unafraid to use jarring language and vivid imagery to sell vignettes of moments in relationships. Friedberger’s voice adds a scholarly edge to her song-writing – her voice remains direct and unfussy, well-sung but with the unfussy clear pronunciation of eloquent speech, quivering with warmth but dry in tone.
Of course, anyone familiar with Friedberger’s career at even a cursory level would recognise New View as in key with an already-established direction: the question remains, is it an essential step forward? Opener ‘He Didn’t Mention His Mother’ certainly feels vital – a great pop song, a seeming snapshot of the giddy thrill of new love before the realities of life kick in (at least, it seems so – oblique lyricism has always made Friedberger’s work seem as intellectually demanding as it is fun). ‘All Known Things’ and ‘Never Is A Long Time’ take a more muted, near-acoustic palette, accentuating Friedberger’s soft voice and melodic flair.
New View doesn’t burst with the technicolour brightness of The Fiery Furnaces’ wildest moments, but neither does it rely on the strangeness of Friedberger as a performer to maintain a captivating intimacy, and it feels like the album’s biggest weakness: there’s a sense that just a little bit more experimentalism would infuse New View with a bit more edge, a bit more bite. There’s no reason to think of this as less than a good album – it’s well-crafted, well-performed, and achieves everything it seems to set out to do. But it also feels a little formulaic and familiar, not just in the sense of Friedberger’s career, but in a broader sense too. Timelessness is a positive trait when ambition is restrained; in the scale and scope of past accomplishments, parts of New View can feel rote and, if not uninspired, at least derivative.
How far New View’s charms carry it depends on how importantly innovation is valued. Originality for its own sake isn’t always rewarding – and in a career of leftfield turns, Friedberger’s already made a few unexplainable artistic choices in the name of creativity. But New View is good, almost great, for what it is: a nostalgia-heavy take on classic rock tropes, filtered through the eyes of an artist who wants to both reshape a rock heritage, and position herself within it.
[Rating:3]
