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Guggenheim Grotto - Happy the Man
- In their second full-length album, Guggenheim Grotto presents a beautiful yet haunting collection of songs; although often upbeat, but with an undercurrent of melancholy, Happy the Man is no less an incredibly entertaining and thought-provoking album. The heartfelt stance found in the words and melodies from the Irish trio of Kevin May, Myck Lynch, and Shane Power are reminiscent of Postal Service's 2003 album, Give Up, and they do the homage great justice, providing themes and sounds of which Ben Gibbard would be proud.
“Fee da da dee”[sic] opens Happy the Man, and provides a cascading and semi-vertical journey that hits not merely all the proper chords, but soars above them and brings the listener along for the ride; although it's difficult to determine if the female vocalist found on this track is helping to uplift or pull the listener back down to earth, it's difficult to argue with her, so persuasive and entrancing are both her and May's vocals on this track when layered over the delicately synthesized and carefully organized acoustics. Even though his lyrics sing towards aging and reality, his lyrical return of “getting there” isn't twinged so much with sadness, regret, or longing for a day of yesterday, but instead an acknowledgment, acceptance and a smile. The steady bass beat behind all of this provides a framework that makes it tremendously difficult to not smile throughout hearing it.
This format – intricate and delicate melodies, carefully crafted and executed beautifully, permeates most of the album, Happy the Man; even though the song, “Sunshine Makes Me High,” found midway through the album, begins in a somewhat slow and plodding fashion, it quickly crescendos in a multi-layered and almost painfully uplifting chorus. This is an incredibly difficult album to wrap your mind around when depressed, as the ultimate effect, regardless of your intention, is to feel just a little bit mysterious and surreally uplifted; it's a strange, but enjoyable effect of Happy the Man.
Interestingly, the album doesn't lyrically revolve around typical pop-sensitive/artistic-guy landscape so often found in this area. May's language, steeped with metaphor and references to be caught only by his carefully specific targets, is no less beautiful and haunting on “Everyman” than on the playful and the painfully heartfelt “The Dragon,” a song that chronicles May's brother's ability to awaken in dreams; “You can do anything if you awaken in dreams, grow ten feet taller and talk with giraffes, with one single step cut the Universe in half, if you can do anything, if you can wake up in dreams,” with the particularly poignant section of the song coming with, “They waited awhile till the door opened wide, my father walked in, and he and my brother embraced. . . .” Following the embrace, the light string selection of the artists unfolds around the listener, chanting behind them, and it paints a beautiful, heartwarming and softly orange, pink and blue glow. It's a striking, melancholy, and sad but wonderful effect.
Reviewer: Daniel A. Russ
new
Reviewer's Rating: 8.5
Reader's Rating: 9.00
Reader's Votes: 1
Added: 16-Nov-2008
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