Flat People
Below is the CD review from the Fort Worth Weekly
newspaper/magazine...by Tom Urquhart, radio host of "The Good Show" on
KTCU 88.7 in Fort Worth, Texas.
After
fronting bands in Austin, then going solo in Los Angeles,
singer-songwriter and native Dallasite Bob Guittard made his journey
back to Big D in 2002 to launch Flat People. His new band went through a
variety of line-up changes, all while recording and polishing new
songs at his home studio. One day late last year, though, Guittard
finally decided to share his songs with Dallas producer Salim
Nourallah. The band now has a somewhat steady line-up, and several
familiar North Texas artists are featured on Guittard's new, eponymous
album, including Nourallah, Warren Barry, Daniel Hopkins, Ward
Williams, Chris Holt, James Driscoll, John Dufilho, Rip Rowan, Rick
Nelson, Rich Williams, and Graham Cathey.
The
result is a highly infectious, varied collection of honey-dripped
quiet rock with a slight veneer of country and folk, sounding at times
like Pink Floyd morphing to Beck, a not-so-drug-addled Camper Van
Beethoven, and perhaps a little Wilco, if John Lennon had shared
songwriting duties.
As
sweet and sing-able as Flat People's melodies are, they have a dark
streak, which alone merits hitting the replay button again and again, to
allow the potential of each track to unfold and be fully absorbed.
One
prime example of FP's beautiful, underlying darkness can be found in
"Oh, Conspiracy," which includes some lovely XTC-tinged harmonies atop
upbeat electric strumming. While the opening strains immediately conjure
up snapshots of Buddy Holly glasses and notions of a simpler time, the
lyrics immediately contradict such innocent imagery: "Shapeshifter
leader, a lizardry breed / They're part of the machine / No, nothing's
as it seems" and also "Socially dead, isolated, and serene / Lights out,
water off / Black copters cleaning house / Yeah, I think we're all
done for." But the sonic dichotomies, in Flat People's hands, never
sound forced or contrived.
Some
of the lyrics are not as sinister as those of "Oh, Conspiracy" but are
simply quaint variations on well-worn motifs, like unrequited love. In
the delightfully twee vignette "My Heart is Beating Warm," Guittard
begs, "Won't you come with me? / I won't do you no harm / Why can't you
show me anything? / My heart is beating warm ... You touch me like a
rose / I cut you like the thorns." They're simple lyrics, sure, but
they're given weight by the tone, tension, and subtle atmospherics.
There's
actually a connection between the black 'copters and broken hearts.
The lead track, "Sensitive Clumsy Astronaut," in addition to being one
of Flat People's more overtly rocking numbers, introduces the album's
overarching theme of alienation and may perhaps remind some listeners of
Harry Nilsson's "Spaceman" or David Bowie's "Space Oddity" in vibe.
You
don't have to think too much to enjoy Flat People — the melodies will
tease a smile out of even the grumpiest Beatle fan — but there's a
wealth of sly depth for listeners who aren't afraid to read between the
lines.
rock indie
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