Local Natives - Gorilla Manor (2010) [Frenchkiss] // Grade: C-

This latest hot-shit SoCal band sounds a lot like Animal Collective. And Fleet Foxes. And Bon Iver. And, oh hey, they do a Talking Heads song and reference NPR, so they’re clearly hip to that particular sort of referential quirk so beloved these days. But despite what others would have you believe—despite how easy it is to treat the band’s “[dressing] for success” as a funny little side-note rather than a gross liability—we’re skating some troubled waters here. Gorilla Manor is bland and unremarkable. Calculated. Kind of transparent. And no, there’s really not that much in it for you.

But let’s be fair: Local Natives aren’t the worst band I’ve ever heard. This debut isn’t unlistenable (just boring), and their signature three-part vocal harmonies—the focal point of any given track—are admittedly well done. And I like Animal Collective and Grizzly Bear just fine, you know, so I understand, at least in theory, the appeal of a band that rips them off for everything they’re worth. But Gorilla Manor is so much the Designer Imposters of albums—the “if you like Yellow House, you’ll LOVE this!”—that it’s difficult not to feel a little cheapened by the experience. The freak-out chant in “Sun House”? Heard it. The ascending melodies, rollicking drums and woah-oh-oh chorus of “World News”? A rite of passage for everyone from Kings of Leon to Lavender Diamond. Nothing on Gorilla Manor strikes me as particularly exciting; it’s all been done, and it’s all been done better. This isn’t expensive perfume, guys. I don’t need a spray-bottle imitation when I already have the originals.

Not that I’m instinctively sneering at derivation. It’s the way art works; good artists copy, great artists steal, blah blah blah, whatever pithy thing Picasso supposedly said. But if you’re going to hop on a bandwagon—and if you’re going to do it obviously, with no regard for innovation—you better be prepared to totally face your predecessors. Your songs better be exactly on par with, or even miles better than, whatever it is you’re ripping off, lest you risk a whole generation of kids shrugging their shoulders and putting on Merriweather Post Pavillion instead. And unfortunately, Gorilla Manor inspires little but a resounding “meh”. It’s been dubbed a “refreshing reminder”, and that’s absolutely true—it just happens to be a refreshing reminder of how easy it is to be mostly milquetoast and still hyped like crazy. Oh well.

- Rue Sauvage