Joie De Vivre – The North End

I’m not sure if it’s the bright, white on blue image of a lone paper plane, or the general weightless, carefree tone, but when hearing Joie De Vivre’s recent full length, The North End, I can’t help be reminded of indie stalwarts Death Cab For Cutie.  Now, the Rockford Illinois sextet doesn’t really sound like Death Cab or associated acts, but I imagine those with an interest could fall for them quite easily.  You won’t find any grand anthems here; this is soft, heartfelt indie, intended to grace individual ears in serene surroundings.

In other words, The North End is an individualistic listen, best suited for solitary moments of headphone wonder.  And come to think of it, that image of a paper airplane gliding in a wispy breeze perfectly encapsulates the album’s casually played, twinkly notes.  Given that band membership swells as a sizable six-man operation, it’s clear that each member knows and understands their place.  After all, knowing when to sit back and let others take the reigns is just as important as one’s own contributions.  Opener “Summer In New London” serves as a great example that sets an early benchmark.  Combined, the subtly plucked acoustics, gently layered strumming, and sorrow filled cry of lead vocalist Brandon Lutmer, make for an inviting introduction.

Before listeners can process the track’s end, the album seamlessly transitions into “Salt,” a track that effectively answers Lutmer’s every line the mellow horn of Paul Karnatz.  Again, Karnatz never overstays his welcome, inserting slow blasts when necessary as a small but meaningful addendum.  And from here on in, the band sticks pretty closely to their guns.  The formula becomes a little derivative by the album’s close, but still keeps things lively by connecting themes across tracks as smoothly as their notes transition between songs.  For example, themes of “stability” and “instability” shine through and hold together “Sundays” and “The North End” – even with four tracks seperating their message.

I should caution though, Lutmer’s vocals won’t be for everyone.  When at a near-speaking tone he sounds somber and controlled; but when he elevates to meet lyrical tension he breaks down, retreating into what some will call a whiny (e.x. the middle of “Next Year Will Be Better”), out of tune mess.  However, those who can revel in emotional vulnerability should take fondly to these outbursts.  I’ve never found them too overbearing, but definitely think more highly of Lutmer’s more stable side.

The North Side is what you might call a “grower.” It doesn’t reveal too much at any one time, but gives listeners a reason to stick around for its thirty-five minute run time.  With each subsequent listen I’ve found myself tuning in to new subtleties and flourishes, keeping me engaged and eager.  Those looking for a soundtrack to those calming moments of isolated introspection should get some good mileage out of The North Side.