Once in a blue moon an album comes along that brings me to my music loving knees, and like an addiction I can’t quit it. I listen to it night and day, on repeat, my heart simultaneously sinking and exploding. Oh, how I love an album – a truly good album, one with depth, arc, and power. When Local Natives released the video and new single to their upcoming disk via Pitchfork, my hands got clammy, a knot in my stomach began to form in anticipation, and I’m not the only one. Local Native’s sophomore effort, Hummingbird is one of the most anticipated of 2013.
My introduction to Local Natives came in San Francisco. “Airplanes” wistfully tumbled out of speakers at a house party and, while everyone else danced, I stood still in the middle of the room and listened. When I finally got my hands on Gorilla Manor (2010), however, it fell a tiny bit short for me. I wanted the build and emotional energy in “Airplanes” to be teased out and applied to the whole. Regardless, this band was on my radar and I patiently waited for Hummingbird. The album drops January 29, but I got an early listen.
Hummingbird has a serious depth to it, and a balanced darkness that follows a clear musical narrative. Credit this in part to Aaron Dessner of The National, who helped Local Natives with the recording and production. The opening track, “You & I” sets the tone. We hear sunny guitars, light percussion, and synthy tones. Kelcey Ayer’s vocals don’t build, but start strong, with the sense that he’s just barely holding something to himself — like he could, at any given moment, break into a full-on battle cry. The chorus is where Ayer’s tense voice quiets down but goes up in pitch and we hear the swirling melodies of an organ, in-depth guitar parts, carefully clashing cymbals, and layer upon layer of harmonious sound. “You & I” holds a powerful struggle, which is present in both the lyrics and Ayer’s beautifully emphatic vocals. After all, “the closer I get, the further I have to go, to places you don’t know.” This song foreshadows how dynamic the rest of the album is, taking us to places we don’t yet know.
My personal favorite, “Columbia,” is the second to last track. This is where the title lands in the opening verse, “A hummingbird crashed right in front of me.” The repetitive, almost obsessive chorus takes over the entire song lyrically. “Every night I ask myself, am I giving enough, am I giving enough, am I giving enough, am I? Every night I ask myself, am I loving enough, am I loving enough, am I?” Here are the illusions of grandeur, the emotional calls begging a response from someone who can no longer answer. This song, written for a band member’s mother who passed away suddenly last year, is the lynchpin on the record, the place we pause to appreciate the true skill these musicians have in creating such a powerful atmosphere.