I find this album , "Kingfisher" (Hmm.. I wonder if the band has read Eugene Peterson? )
by Prawn great and God-haunted...
The record is one that skirts around many sounds. You get a sense of the full range of the band and it's sure to surprise even their most loyal backers. The tight musicianship around Kingfisher assembles like a puzzle. The composition swings from melodic lulls and introspective themes to mid—tempo jangly hooks to ramped—up mathy sections —— all contributing to a strong sense of indie/post—rock diversity. Dynamic's the word I'm looking for. "Scud Running" opens with subtle horns (paying homage to the founding fathers of the genre in the '90s) while wailing around vocally like a juiced—up Arcade Fire.
The horns become more prominent on "Thalassa" later on down the line to really signify that while tribute will be paid to older generations of emo, Prawn's all about showing the new direction of themselves and of course, the genre. These are prime examples of the duality explored on Kingfisher which give deeper clarity and insight into the band's shift from twinkly, slow jams to pacier strings of melody. The loud, distorted sprawls layered over a much more focused front line further build a more complete and robust set of tracks. The dual vocals really feel assertive too which gives the album that extra kick. It's a more fleshed out Prawn this time around and that's something fans have clamored for for a while.
Rougher cuts like "First As Tragedy, Second As Farce" add even more indie flavor with their grainy, garage vibe to dirty the production a bit. It strikes a good balance with the calmer, polished gems such as "Old Souls" to further show how varied Prawn wanted the album to be. It's a very smart shake—up as no track comes off as repetitive. Bits and pieces do throw the listener back to stuff like older Park, Into.It.Over.It and one of the newer bands in the field, Donor, but overall, it feels like this is the album to distinguish Prawn from everyone else. "Halcyon Days" has a nice little progressive/experimental overlay to it which really brings forth the intricacy of the album. One that's more guitar driven than anything Prawn's ever done but still, one that doesn't compromise their character despite batting out of their cages. It's a great finale to round up affairs. Fookin' Prawn —— distinct, a bit more aggressive yet still holding true to their core ideals. Don't let this slip by. link
The first notes on Kingfisher make this whole affair more of an invitation than a record. Those guitar twinkles are so friendly, so human, they function like a friend opening the door for you to a surprise party. Prawn’s existence is something of a surprise. Who would’ve thought 2014 would bring about an emo revival so wide-sweeping that a group like this could overhaul what that genre’s come to mean while still functioning within all its nostalgic and keepable confines? After years of cynicism, Kingfisher is yet another signature on the petition that we should let music do what it does best: make us feel.
If the emo designation scares you off, you shouldn’t be afraid. There’s no sign of Fall Out Boy’s sonics here. If Broken Social Scene were a little more heart-on-their-sleeve and a little less cryptic, you can imagine them coming through the airwaves like Prawn does here. Prawn hails from Topshelf Records and this may be the revivalist label’s best sampler yet. The band cuts out most of what can make emo inaccessible to the average listener. The vocals can get a bit yelpy, but there aren’t any potentially off-putting screeches to be found. The guitars ride the balance between mopey and chaotic, always keeping a level of engaging, upbeat melancholy going from start to finish.
Great music usually functions within a particular structure while bringing in different influences to remodel that structure from within. It’s this methodology that allowed bands like Talking Heads and artists like Elvis Costello to be called punk in their day when they went against the grain of what was common to the genre. Some bands have the letter of the law, others have the spirit. When it comes to emo, Prawn is the latter.
Bands like the Hotelier and Modern Baseball are putting out records that offer teary-eyed pop-punk on a platter more silver than it’s been in years, but there’s no redecoration involved. In no way are their efforts cookie-cutter nor are they particularly different from what’s come before. They’ve studied the architectural style of their forebears and are building the same sorts of livable houses they did.
Prawn erected Kingfisher on the same foundation as their contemporaries but with different tools. There are moments when it sounds as epic as post-rock and others where it sounds as stripped-down as house-show punk. But even if there are many different rooms to explore here, Prawn still knows the rules. Flourishes only mean anything in relation to cohesion. Somehow, even when they sound like Explosions in the Sky meets American Football, that cohesion is present in spades.
The record is fraught with references to things like blood, God and the cosmos. Perhaps the reason records like this are making a comeback is simply because we need them. Detachment can only take you so far before you start looking inward and outward for answers. Kingfisher isn’t the answer to any of our existential crises but it’s a welcome assurance there are other people out there asking the same kinds of bleeding-heart, sensitive questions. The only difference between us and Prawn is they’re way, way better at playing their guitars and putting all this pain and wonder into words. link
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From Property of Zach:
Some things are so aesthetically pleasing they can only be consumed in small quantities over long periods of time for fear of overloading one’s senses and reaching a state of shock. For example, there’s a reason I tend to reserve eating chocolate mousse pie only around my birthday – if I were to gorge myself on its rich and heavenly textures I would reach a comatose state in little over a week. New Jersey emo all-stars Prawn and their latest LP, Kingfisher, are a perfect representation of this phenomenon; there is only so much perfectly crafted and richly produced emo music my brain can handle before it implodes upon itself.
Prawn have been quietly tossing pebbles into the pond that is the recent Emo Revival, creating subtle ripples here and there, but Kingfisher is no pebble. Rather, Kingfisher is the boulder shooting out waves in every direction, and the album appropriately begins with “Scud Running,” whose nautical metaphors seem to be a staple in the wheelhouse of guitarist/vocalist Tony Clark. Clark cuts to the bone with lyrics such as: “The sails are slashed, we’re fucked for sure. I’m waiting for the breakers. If there’s a light from that beacon I can count the distance in this thick hazy pea soup fog,” whose distinct imagery provide a haunting and vivid portrayal of love on the rocks.
However, Prawn’s strengths do not lie simply in Clark’s poetic virtuoso, but also in the musical aptitude of him and his bandmates. Prawn is a group where every member could easily shine as the star of a common band and Kingfisher highlights these diverse, yet concerted talents, to a T. From the sparkling guitar-work of Clark and Andrew Vilchez on “Dialect Of” that shoots out of speakers and into headphones like moonbeams on a foggy spring night, to Jamie Houghton’s immaculate drum beats on both “Glass, Irony” and “Runner’s Body,” Kingfisher is a true musician’s album.
Not only do Kingfisher’s ten tracks succeed independent of each other, but the record is also so cohesive that it becomes almost fluid, as each song comes off as a logical and natural extension of the last. Songs and chords crash into each other like the very breakers that Clark references in the album’s opening track, while each delicately placed guitar note feels like the first drops of a summer shower. On Kingfisher, Prawn create an emotionally poignant atmosphere that feels like another world and the experience of listening to the record is certainly otherworldly, as each track draws you further into a place of serene rest that is akin to nirvana.
The defining moment of this nirvana occurs just two tracks in during “First as Tragedy, Second as Farce,” which epitomizes the hectic, yet beautiful catharsis that Prawn have been brewing since 2007. Each chord in this truly epic track ffeels like a scream unleashed over the rooftops of a city that is truly invested in the hopes, dreams, and fears of the listener. “First as Tragedy, Second as Farce” is not just a release, but both a letting go and a coming together.
Prawn may not be the most hyped band coming out of the emo revival, but they are easily one of the most talented and Kingfisher is the most complete album I have heard in what seems like ages. The production is superb, the content is crisp, and the record is focused in a way that feels as sharp as a switchblade. With Kingfisher,Prawn are latching their hooks into listeners and I, for one, am looking forward to having them drag me out to sea. link
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From Get Alternative:
Prawn’s new album Kingfisher is not a complete departure from what the band has put out in the past, as they clearly draw and incorporate influences from previous releases to expand and improve their sound. However, the album presents the listener with a new, refreshing, and energizing Prawn sound. Kingfisher is a compilation of ten thumping, bumping, and “sing along until you lose your voice” type of ambitious rock songs, that are much more direct and straightforward than anything they’ve released prior.
Most notably, the opening two songs on the album “Scud Running” and “First as Tragedy, Second as Farce” are a strong indication of the newfound sound. Ringing, technical musicianship previously associated with Prawn takes the back seat for thick, loud guitar work used to assemble memorable choruses filled with pleasantly repetitive lyrics that you’ll be reciting in your head until you spin the album once more.
As excellent as the first two tracks are, this isn’t to say that the album is free of a few minor missteps. Perhaps one of the weaknesses of the album is that it is too cohesive. Surprisingly, some of the slower songs on Kingfisher are a bit too consistent. While I am fond of giving the listener some breathing room, and a chance to collect his or her thoughts after a climatic point within the album, some of the breaks during the album were a bit too safe.
Not to take anything away from the band though, as these thoughts could be attributed to the notion that a handful of songs throughout the album are so unbelievably outstanding, that the feeling of being let down afterwards would only be a natural. “Dialect Of”, “Glass, Irony”, and “Thalassa” are three signature products of Kingfisher. These three songs fall closer to the experimental side of Kingfisher when viewing the album as a whole.
As alluded to previously, each song has its own signature sing along moment. The primarily bass driven song “Dialect Of” features the line “You’ve gone foreign now” in one of the bulkiest, and most boisterous points on Kingfisher. Intricate drum patterns and faint rhythms accentuate the beginning of “Glass, Irony” only for the song to take a deep breath before it explodes into a chorus that lets Tony Clark’s raspy, soft voice let out in mildly pleading manner “Let’s keep swimming to our bodies”. Finally, ‘Thalassa” strikes near the end of the album with heavy drums and thunderous horns, elevating the song as an undeniable stand out track on the album. Not to be outdone lyrically though, as it also includes one of the most puzzling and thought provoking one-liners in quite some time “I’m glad you found clarity in ambiguity”.
Kingfisher is an album that is challenging to put into perspective. Cutting right to the chase, the album is extraordinary at its highest peaks. On the contrary, after the peaks, the valleys are consistently inconsistent. Overall, the best quality about Kingfisher is that it has the type of “mass appeal” sound to it. It’s the perfect album to introduce to a friend who’s interested in rock music, but might be on the fence about listening to “emo” or something that’s “not on the radio”. Kingfisher is a mature album. It’s not going to catch you off guard with any quirky lyric or musical surprise, and that’s perfectly fine. In a time when so much musical experimentation is occurring, it’s enjoyable to know exactly what you’re listening to, and having it executed at a high level. link
From Spectral Nights:
fAter forming in 2007, releasing their first album in 2011 and playing extensively throughout the United States and in Europe (including a London show with our very own Our Lost Infantry) over the past seven years, Prawn have returned with their follow-up to 2012’s ‘Ships’ – the ornithologically titled ‘Kingfisher’. Complete with artwork of the beautiful bird on its sleeve, will this be the record to see them take flight?
The band’s prog-rock influences are laid bare on the mesmerising opener ‘Scud Running’. Rhythmic and confidently stadium sized, it recalls the likes of the Appleseed Cast alongside the more interesting elements of Snow Patrol. ‘It’s a long way away’ is repeated over and over again while the shrewd lyrics also offer a tantalising glimpse into the band’s thought process – and it’s pretty dark: ‘The breath beneath the services, it weighs me down…’. Being part of the impressive Topshelf Records roster, inevitably Prawn have been thrown into the so-called ‘emo revival’ and ‘First as Tragedy, Second as a Farce’ would happily sit alongside You Blew It! and Into It. Over It’s strongest work. While never forgetting the importance of a good pop hook, singer and guitarist Tony Clark bellows out the lines: ‘I am fucked. I am my father’s son.’
These reflective and self-depreciating lines are a common theme throughout the whole album. Even the more traditionally melodic ‘Prolonged Exposure’ features deeply personal lyrics (‘you’ and ‘I’ must be the most common words spluttered during its five minutes) and the slightly self-absorbed statement: ‘I last drank when you walked in’. There’s a touch of ‘Opus 40’-era Mercury Rev or The Antlers in ‘Dialect Of’, a fragile song that’s starry-eyed lyrics – ‘You carry me over’ – find a perfect foil in the post-rock guitars and marching military drums. The band head back to their punk-rock roots on the Lemonheads-y ‘Glass, Irony’ – a track that would also have fitted in perfectly with the mid-00s explosion of bands like OK Go and Hot Hot Heat… And that’s a compliment.
‘I never thought that the wind would be hissing your name into the leaves’ is the stunning opening line of ‘Absurd Walls’, an ode to heading back home to the East to reflect on the things that have gone wrong – and whether it’s all your fault: ‘I fucked it, you know it’. Ryan Adams-style mourning and self-awareness run throughout this song as Tony urges a close companion to live their life: ‘Go be with the ones that you’re missing, takes a chunk out of me to see you leave…’. With American Football-style guitar work, the song ends on a surprisingly optimistic note: ‘When you get there, I’ll keep up.’ Things are turned up a notch with the infectiously catchy ‘Thalassa’, a bona-fide pop hit. The band represent their New Jersey heritage with a touch of brass while the shout of ‘I’m glad you found clarity’ shows how sometimes it’s OK to let things go and run their course… It’s the perfect complement to the song that came before it.
Sparse post rock elements glisten throughout the introduction of the closing song ‘Halcyon Days’, while there’s also another striking delivery of some dramatic lines: ‘Bad bones in the flesh, bad blood in our veins’. Scattered riffs and beautiful melodies collide as the song falls into a finish that The National would be proud, complete with distinctive backing vocals and a throbbing drum sound, all while the band sing: ‘We keep fighting waves’. With ‘Kingfisher’, Prawn are set to make quite the ripple. Like the bird the record is named after, it’s bright, fascinating and sure to make you smile, link
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From Pop Matters:
I have a friend who edits and publishes my fiction in London, and, without any warning or prompting on my part, I discovered that she had shared a link to a Prawn track from Kingfisher on Facebook not long after my own stumbling upon this group. I wouldn’t be surprised, then, if Prawn explodes and goes viral with this release, which shows a real sense of maturity and heft that is absolutely stunning. Wall to wall, it doesn’t have a single weak track on it. Sounding at times like the Appleseed Cast in all of its mathy glory, and sometimes sounding like the National of old, just with the added vocal range of a singer who sounds remotely like J Mascis, Prawn deftly shows that they’re not a band to be ignored.
Like any best kept secret, Prawn swims the distance of emo-rock with a force that is to be reckoned with. The album opens with “Scud Running” and a repeated chiming guitar chord (you listen to it, and the guitar is practically speaking the words “chime!, chime!, chime!”) before the cellos kick in. There’s a very Broken Social Scene touch as trumpets get eventually added to the piece. It’s a chilling work, but one that is like an exasperation of trying to struggle and be heard. “It’s the floor I’m reaching for,” sings vocalist Tony Clark, “a breath beneath the surface / It weighs me down / It cuts me from / The line that you’ve been reeling.” But should you think this is a study in pessimism, Clark add, “If there’s a light from that beacon / I can count the distance,” as though he’s swimming towards something more uplifting, even as he realizes that “it’s a long way away.” And, in a particularly deft move, the band skids out of “Scud Running” with the brilliantly titled “First As Tragedy, Second As Farce”. The seafaring imagery continues on here, “I miss the breakers breaking / Everything I’ve known.” If Kingfisher wasn’t an album of music, it would be a nautically themed painting.
Usually, I can listen to the first few notes of a record, and determine how the rest of it might play out — a sort of music critic ESP, I suppose. And after hearing “Scud Running” for the first time, I thought to myself, “I bet the rest of this is going to be equally amazing.” I was right. Third track “Prolonged Exposure” has some very Real Estate guitars lapping up the shoreline of the intro, before everything blows up into a cauldron of shimmery noise during the chorus. Prawn continues working its mojo from there. “Dialect Of” rings like a clarion call, a forceful and yet delicate stab at indie rock that will get your head nodding. And then the band knows just how to simmer things down with “Old Souls”, with a guitar line that practically yearns with sadness and melancholy. “We’re old souls in new skin / …just waiting, waiting to begin,” yearns Clark. When the liquid guitars nudge their way in the bridge, you might just lose your breath.
“Glass, Irony”, which opens up the second half of the album, plays out like a long lost song by the Breeders, and, of course, the nautical themes keep coming long, hard and fast: “Let’s keep swimming / To our bodies.” “Absurd Walls”, meanwhile, sounds like a Modest Mouse track from their late-’90s peak. The guitars shimmer and glisten, and you might want to pull out your hankie for this one. That is, until the song turns into something out of Vampire Weekend in the last half minute of the tune. The horns make their reappearance on “Thalassa”, along with a refrain that is utterly bile-filled: “I’m glad you found clarity in ambiguity,” the words carefully measured and delivered with a fury and vile not heard of since the days of Hüsker Dü. Heft and power courses throughout “Runner’s Body” with a pummelling riff and frantic desperation in the rushing guitar lines. Final song “Halcyon Days” brings things to a crystalline close, at least initially, before churning into a thick whirlpool of sound.
This LP is carefully constructed and pushes all the right emotional buttons to great effect, balancing its angst-ridden lyrics with a sound that’s as clear as glass. Kingfisher is absolutely fabulous and a thrilling discovery, regardless if you accidentally stumble across this or not. Every dorm room should come equipped with this album, along with the standard food and lodging, such a revelatory and emotional disc this is. Tapping into the anguish of the young, this album reels you in seductively, and it’s hard to find any fault with it. Listening to this — particularly in my case, as something stumbled upon — you feel the true joy of indie rock, and why it’s vital and still matters. While Prawn certainly don’t hide their influences, the way that this record congeals and morphs between its sonic templates keeps the listeners interest and an ear towards the stereo. All in all, this is upstanding stuff and just one of those records that is such a pleasant surprise that you will want to hold onto it endearingly and treasure it just for yourself. But don’t be selfish: Prawn needs to be known about to all of your friends and loved ones. Go and get Kingfisher, and find out for yourself what I’m fussing about. Now. In the end, you won’t regret that you did, believe me.
