Album Review
Vultures of Love
By Karl Blau
by Joe Vickrey
Karl Blau presents a Milky Way of glistening sounds orbiting around the intimate and funky songs in his latest record, Vultures of Love.
Some songs have blown my head off the first time I hear them, and others will creep back into my thoughts time and time again until I crave them. Karl Blau writes songs in both of those categories. Now based in Philadelphia, his music is the unsung anthem of the Pacific Northwest, and he has quite the cult following throughout the west coast. Blau's new record Vultures of Love is a beautiful work of abstract wonder. Singer songwriter compositions meets tasteful experimentation in his latest release. Grounding melodies keep a Milky Way of glistening sounds in orbit for a sweet and intimate setting.
I was somewhat familiar with Blau's music through his connection to a number of Pacific Northwest groups I’m in love with, but when I heard “Pasadena” I was knocked off my feet.
The haunting whistles and echoing slide guitars etched this alt-country tune into the walls of my mind for weeks.
The chords and melody beckon listeners into the eerie ghost town portrait it creates. I’d consider it to be the desert’s siren song and makes for a perfect entry point for new listeners.
The biggest surprise to me was that the rest of album didn’t attempt to rehash this chilling slow-burner. Following “Pasadena,” the album starts to drift away from reality. “Who” contains some golden age reggae vibes with drum delays and a close mic’d horn duo over an otherwise somber groove. He begins, “Who can fake the sunlight and change their own skin?”, with each question he asks sounds despondent, yet gripping.
The halls feel like they begin to contort and there’s a sense of time melting more as each song continues. “Taxes,” “Back on Track,” “The Heavy Light Of Sad & Dance” could all be the soundtrack to Salvador Dali’s painting “The Persistence of Memory.” (For those who don’t know it by name, it’s the famous painting of melting clocks frequently parodied in cartoons.)
Straight-to-tape guitars and punchy horn lines hovering over morphing ambience gave me the impression that Karl Blau is the coolest guy to ever lose his mind.
One element that helps set Blau's music apart is the depth of his arranging. Vultures of Love is his least traditional collection to date, and the experimentation paid its weight in gold. Hand percussion, reversed guitars, drum machines, horns, and only an occasional synthesizer creates the illusion of a parade with elements that pass throughout seamlessly. In many ways, it feels quite dreamlike. Whether the album’s diversity and spacial nature was his choice or that of a producer, I don’t know, but it feels quite natural.
The lack of constants keeps the music exciting listen after listen. This isn’t your everyday gimmicky ear candy; this is the imported stuff your cool uncle brought with him back from Germany.
The record’s third act combines elements of the first two. Some of the first tracks’ traditional songwriting structures and melodies return in the title track as well as “23 and Me” but while maintaining the funkiness and layering of the album’s trippy middle section. Beginning and ending the collection with the most acoustic-centered songs was a nice choice that really gives the record a definitive feel of a cyclical journey’s start and end.
Vultures of Love is an art exhibit that’s as fun as it is thought provoking. Karl Blau has done a fantastic job at making experimentation digestible for an every day listener while still providing enough depth for the artsiest of fans to dive into. Adorned by a colorful instrumentation and vivid lyrics, Karl Blau’s new direction is wonderful and welcomed. I only have one remaining question; what is a vulture of love?
Make sure to follow Karl Blau on Instagram and check out "The Heavy Light Of Sad & Dance" below.