Why would a narwhal (think a porpoise crossed with a unicorn) want to fight another narwhal when they could just dance together?
Zac Stanley, lead vocals and guitar for Portland band Narwhal vs. Narwhal, describes his band as “spastic happy pop that anyone with huge energy can jump around to.”
All right, so maybe a narwhal with huge energy and a giant horn on its head is not the best thing to be jumping around with. But a nice slow dance might lend itself nicely to the situation. However, you will find very little opportunity for such romantic swaying on Narwhal vs. Narwhal’s self-released debut, Wipe the Sweat From Your Word. Every track just asks for more energy from its listener.
The band will be playing an album-release party Thursday, October 2 at the Holocene. Joining them will be the Vanishing Kids and Nick Delffs (of the Shaky Hands fame). When asked about the show, Stanley said, “We didn’t really believe in a CD-release show, but then everyone was like ‘You have to have one,’ so we are.”
It’s that very nonchalance that makes listening to Narwhal so much fun. They aren’t trying to make you have fun, but because they are having a good time, it’s hard not to get in on the energy.
Once referred to as “the Nar-wall of sound” because of their multiple members (three guitars, trumpet, saxophone, keyboards, drums and bass), eventually the band leveled off its sound as members left and Stanley answered the call to have a more stripped down aesthetic.
What’s left now is a very promising indie rock/funk/pop outfit. And what sounds endured the re-structuring? Stanley’s cool guitar wails, Andrew Bolton’s dance inducing drums, Sam Davis’ added funk on the bass and Amanda Mason Wiles’ (the only brass left in the band) rollicking saxophone leads.
And the saxophone really does lend itself to most of the arrangements, which should be hard to do in a band that has more in common with Built to Spill than the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. It would be easy to use the saxophone as a catch, but the band utilizes the instrument to its maximum effect. It adds to the arrangements without drawing attention to itself.
If Narwhal can hammer out a focus musically, the band can only get better. But even obvious stand-out tracks on the album are not far enough from their core sound to distract.
A good example is the song “Summer Frown,” which comes on like a Yiddish zombie shuffle before opening up with a Shins-esque vocal and guitar. You can’t help but want to shake a Narwhal fin or two. “Closer” is a very polished jam that seems destined to be a soundtrack to the rain-soaked highways of western Oregon.
Some of the tracks go on for too long, but what they may lack in focus, Narwhal vs. Narwhal make up for in raw energy and an exuberance that proves surprisingly infectious.
Aquatic nomenclature not withstanding, Narwhal vs. Narwhal should provide a fairly straightforward performance at their album release show with their signature energy leading the evening. If the group gets its way, the experience will be something akin to two humongous horned mammals laying down fisticuffs, and that should be something worth seeing.
Narwhal vs. Narwhalw/ Vanishing Kids and Nick DelffsHolocene, Oct. 2, 9 p.m.21-plus