Fruit Bats: The Ruminant Band (Sub Pop)

"It’s okay" is the most back-handed compliment one can give to a work of art.

Though Fruit Bats formed in 1999, 2009's The Ruminant Band is the first time I listened to them. I was immediately struck by the solid quality of the songwriting, Eric Johnson’s country-tinged lyrics and James Mercer-esque croon, the band’s jangly-folk instrumentation, and the album’s straightforward production values. Excited at the prospect of discovering a diamond in the rough, I dove into the band’s catalog and found a near-homogeneous collection of songs with a definitive, singular Fruit Bats aesthetic. This in mind, I returned to The Ruminant Band with a starting point for reviewing it. The record was thoroughly solid fare, and the band’s dynamic seemed conceptually interesting.

I wanted to communicate the pleasure of The Ruminant Band, but I couldn’t find any words to do so. The more I listened to the record, the less interested I became. I asked friends for advice and opinions. "This sounds like The Shins," said one friend, "but comparing one band to another isn’t justifiable music criticism." "It isn’t terribly complex," said a classically trained violinist, “but it’s not bad for pop songwriting." I couldn’t find any resounding reason to dislike the record, but the more I listened, the harder I found it to pinpoint the Fruit Bats' actual appeal.

I become more and more underwhelmed with the band and their new LP. There was nothing challenging about the record, nothing subversive, nothing that evolved or came to fruition through serious examination. Some albums have the keen ability to balance complexity with instant accessibility; The Ruminant Band is all immediate and no delayed gratification. The songs are all pleasant and quirky enough to seem interesting on initial listen, but yield no pay-off to anyone but the casual, first-time listener.

It is ironic that Fruit Bats should draw parallels to a ruminant band, for the two are seemingly antonyms. There is nothing meditative about the concept or songs on The Ruminant Band. Everything on the record is immediately accessible. This accessibility would not be a hindrance if coupled with a higher conceptual presence that rewarded the dedicated listener. However, thematic unity and recurring motifs are largely absent from the record, and thus the record has no permanence or staying power. The Ruminant Band is a nice listen, but, like Fruit Bats themselves, is easy to ignore; it seems that the least subversive records are the first ones forgotten. - Adam Kritzer

Mr. Kritzer travels the globe -- or at least NYC -- looking for revelatory moments of musical bliss.