Album Review: JEFF the Brotherhood, Hypnotic Nights

Written by  Published in Album Reviews Monday, 23 July 2012 20:00

JEFF-the-Brotherhood-album

JEFF the Brotherhood’s third album, Hypnotic Nights, is out now on Warner Bros. Records, and despite the major label switch they still sound like JEFF the Brotherhood. The brothers Jake and Jamin have traveled more and grown up a bit, which is reflected on this new record, but they also still made some pretty good songs to have a rager in the woods to, where you can act like a horse’s ass on purpose and it’s awesome. Dan Auerbach from The Black Keys has production credit, aiding in a more polished sound overall, but the grit of the songs themselves remains mostly intact.

Much of the garage drudge from their first album, Heavy Days, has since begun to be replace by cleaner power pop rhythms and some extra instruments like the vibraphone action in “Mystic Portal II,” the repeated one note of a toy piano in “Wood Ox,” or the sexy sax and sitar in a spaghetti western sounding "Region of Fire." Luckily, though, they didn’t try to slack on the guitar solos too much. There do seem to be less wild jam outs like back in the Heavy Days, but they haven’t lost any spunk in the process. “Mystic Portal” even sounds reminiscent of “The Tropics” in spots, as far as the melody. Jake also sounds like he was free-styling the lyrics on that one, as in places they become meanderingly entertaining.

There also seems to be this story arc to the album of fading youth and failed relationships with the song ordering, going through being balls-out heavy partying, leading to some portals and hypnotic mind rides. This leads to the more confusing human interactions of “Staring at the Wall” and “Leave Me Out,” into the resident album slow jam “Region of Fire,” before being alone in the woods again for “Hypnotic Winter.” Whatever journey it took to get to that track was worth it, because it has what is probably the best guitar solo on the album. They chose to do a cover as the album closer – Black Sabbath’s “Changes,” which starts to become laborious at the end, but the comedown is never as good as taking that first drag while canoeing down a river.

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Last modified on Tuesday, 24 July 2012 20:48
Kelly Knapp

I grew up listening to the music my parents listened to. My mom gave me some of her “Golden Oldies” cassette tapes, and I could sit in my room for hours harmonizing with The Ronettes, and staring at Del Shannon, who I thought was a total stud in his tiny black and white photo on the glossy fold-out insert. I listened to Willie Nelson because my Dad admired him so much, and I wanted to understand what was so great about him too. My first concert wasn’t a huge life changer; I saw Inner Circle at a local Jambalaya festival in Central Florida. Their biggest hit was “Bad Boys,” the theme song to COPS. If anything, that concert should have traumatized me. But, at the time I had no comprehension of any crassness. I just remember the guitarist making eye contact with me and smiling, and feeling excitement over having a brief connection with someone who was making me dance.

It’s the same thing with listening to music with words in another language. It’s not necessary to understand words or literal meanings. It’s the way the melodies and rhythms evoke feeling. It’s like that saying about art, how you may not be able to explain it, but you know it when you see it. I can’t always describe music (although obviously, I sure as hell try to), but I know what I like when I feel it, and I think those who can evoke that feeling deserve to be acknowledged for it. That’s what I want to describe. That’s what I want to share.

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