High Places: “High Places” by Jacob Levi

Perhaps the emergence of an electronic-percussion-based genre-bending duo from Brooklyn doesn’t raise eyebrows the way it used to back in, say, 2002. With groups like Animal Collective, Joanna Newsom and Of Montreal breaking through to the forefront of the independent music scene (and beyond), the floodgates are open for experimental indie-pop. Throw together a synth, some drums and a guitar with an off-axis, yet catchy melody, and it seems that you’ve got the recipe for a hit single. And for the majority of these acts, probably nothing more. High Places may be part of the onslaught of electronic-infused acts, but their debut album reveals a unique creative spark that certainly elevates them above the clouds of passing musical fads. Mary Pearson and Rob Barber’s group has produced a vibrant and colorful sound (and it is very much a sound) that outclasses most of its emerging sub-genre.
On the heels of their debut EP, “03.07-09.07,” High Places’ self-titled LP delivers more of the same, but in the best possible sense. High Places combines an intricate and downright fascinating electro-percussive core that beautifully merges with Mary Pearson’s dreamy vocals. Most percussion-heavy acts either abstain from vocals or struggle to adequately balance the rhythmic and vocal aspects of their music. Many critics throw around the term “noise music” as a diminutive moniker for de-structured sound that they can’t quite get their head around. While this is not the place to discuss the merits of noise music, High Places does not fit that category. The opening song on the album, “The Storm,” builds into a layered beat involving shakers, a twangy guitar line, claves, and a plethora of other exotic samples layered with Barber’s drum machine. This combination establishes the backbone of an enticing beat with tropical flair, in many ways reminiscent of Animal Collective or Caribou. Castanets and other jingles and jangles accent the dominant rhythmic line, looping flawlessly in and out around Pearson’s vocals. It leaves me wondering whether or not I want to get up and dance, or sit on the beach with a Piña Colada in hand. Probably both.
High Places’ rhythms are experimental and include a multitude of different cultural and instrumental influences, but it maintain its coherency beautifully. Instrumentally as well as rhythmically, High Places certainly has garnered a lot of influence from other bands like Animal Collective, but whereas the Baltimore group generally uses prolonged buildups to establish their melodic and rhythmic composition in songs that are often over eight minutes long, High Places’ music is court and sharp, never allowing a melody or drum loop to outstay its welcome. Each song feels like a little jingle that you’ll hum to yourself when you’re walking to the store or driving to work because it’s so catchy, despite the patently unconventional arrangements. What I find particularly appealing about High Places is that they successfully navigate the thin line between deconstructing traditional pop sounds, and falling into the abyss of free-form noise music that lacks the coherency (or perhaps the pace) to string itself along. Every song on the album is between one and a half to four minutes long, and while it can leaves the listener wishing that the beats went on, it also keeps their music from dragging. Everything about this album is uplifting.
It’s no wonder that High Places’ music is frequently described as “playful,” or “dreamy.” “Namer,” a track in the middle of the album, expresses a nostalgic longing to be home, and an intimate attachment to the smallest of things: “Yes I know every crevice // I’ve named them all // There were none too big // There were none too small.” It’s the little things that get them going, and they revel in it. Because they are forced to leave home, in the second verse of “Namer,” she plots rebuilding with her companion dog: “I’ll buy a plot of land // One full of trees // Where I can practice taxonomy”. Pearson revisits the glee implicit in naming, and like a child at play, she is content so long as she can sit around with her dog renaming the things around her. High Places revisits previously ordinary topics with renewed inspiration, unleashing the sublime from the ingrained with an almost Proustian ability to revisit things long forgotten. High Places makes itself at home by getting to know their environment’s quirks and renaming it as their own—much like their music takes traditional noise-music and pop-ifies it. Said another way, their music takes pop and adds an experimental touch. In High Places’ dream-reality, there is wonder and amazement contained in the seemingly simple things: our homes, small animals, the sky. The banal is the sublime, and the sublime is the banal. It’s not naiveté, but a genuinely innocent look at the world that is both endearing and gorgeous. High Places does not break down any monumental musical barriers—they just work with what they have, to dizzying effect. While Pearson’s echoing vocals lulls listeners into their dreamy world, Barber’s electronic percussion keeps them simultaneously bobbing their heads to the rhythm. High Places does not claim to be anything more than it is: there is no grand vision of musical revolution, there is no shocking crescendo or daring lyric; there are just two artists, playing on synthesizers and jangling bells, creating catchy yet substantive music.