Woods – At Echo Lake (Woodsist)

Current darlings of the blogosphere, Woodsist is one of the coolest independent labels on the planet, but one richly deserving the hype thanks to a prodigiously talented roster which includes the likes of Real Estate, The Fresh & Onlys, Eat Skull, Art Museums and Moon Duo, not to mention one-off releases with a host of other hipster-approved bands. Heading up the family tree, though, are Woods, whose frontman Jeremy Earl runs the label, while his band are its main driving force creatively.

This is their fifth full-length album, and At Echo Lake seems like a marked stylistic progression from its predecessor, Songs of Shame. There are some links between the two long-players, not least the song ‘Echo Lake’ which appears on the latter, and also the recent single ‘I Was Gone’ which features here. A lo-fi, rustic psych-rock jam, it provides the most obvious signpost to the band’s earlier outings, while much of this newest album points towards its future.

It transpires that their future – or at the very least this record – lies in more pop-orientated territory, none more so than on the shimmering, Shins-esque ‘Suffering Season’, a slice of breezy, shimmering pop which belies its melancholy tale. While Woods’ lo-fi recording techniques might make mainstream success unlikely, you could certainly imagine Natalie Portman lustily singing their praises in a heartwarming indie-flick.

That’s not to say the Brooklyn-based outfit have lost their fondness for squalls, field recordings and odd noises, all of which seep through this intoxicating half-hour. ‘Time Fading Lines’ makes subtle use of sitar in its intro, which is perhaps another nod to their psychedelic leanings and is indicative of the depth of musicianship on display, where textures are enveloped to bring a more expansive and alluring feel.

The differences between Woods on record and their more heavily jam-informed live shows are intriguing, and with At Echo Lake they’ve done a sterling job of corralling their most melodic tendencies without nullifying their more experimental instincts. For example, on ‘Death Rattles’ the quartet’s keening harmonies duel with backwards guitars, and such dichotomies are key components of what makes their work such a joy.

Often shaping a peculiar surf/country-rock hybrid, with woozy melodies and layers of strange sounds, Woods have succeeded in creating a leftfield amalgam of ingredients which draws on both traditional pop staples – witness the exuberant handclaps on ‘Deep’ – and the trippy dalliances of hazy 1960s rock, but with more than a passing nod to The Byrds or CSNY. At Echo Lake is a dusty, sun-kissed treat and won’t leave you disappointed.