In the fall of 2006, I
struggled through the last year of my twenties trying to balance the demands of
graduate school and the collapse of a five-year-long relationship in a small
town in Vermont. Despite the exquisite autumn foliage, quaint locales, and
charming New England characters surrounding me, I found myself at a low point
with few breaks from the pressure, frustration, and loneliness I felt.
Throughout my life, music has provided an outlet from my troubles and a path toward
healing. Around this time, TV on the Radio released their second album, Return
to Cookie Mountain, and offered the gift of an intense, gorgeous, and
complicated album that soon became a personal favorite. Speaking of gifts, a
few weeks later a friend bought me a ticket to see TV on the Radio in Boston.
Preparing for the show, I noted the name of the opening band, Grizzly Bear, and
wondered what they would sound like. 
The trip to Boston
allowed me a much needed interlude from Vermont and once I entered the venue I
felt energized by the evening’s potential. Shortly after I arrived four young
men took to the stage, announced themselves as Grizzly Bear and conjured an
intricate, haunting, and mesmerizing collection of songs. All four band members
contributed to the lush vocal harmonies woven into the songs and they cycled
through a range instruments including clarinet, autoharp, banjo, and xylophone.
At the end of their set, the band announced that they would be selling copies
of their brand new sophomore album, Yellow House, at the merch table. TV
on the Radio came on soon after and put on a brilliant performance that far
surpassed my expectations. That night stands as one of the best combinations of
opening act and headliner I’ve ever witnessed. After the show, I took Grizzly
Bear up on their suggestion and bought a copy of Yellow House. The whole
band worked the table and their enthusiasm for their new album was infectious. Return
to Cookie Mountain had given me a vibrant, cathartic push through a tough fall,
but Yellow House invited me to explore the elusive and delicate
possibilities of the near future as I prepared for winter in Vermont. Each of
the ten songs on Yellow House possesses a distinct identity, but I think
of the album as a whole. The opening song “Easier” slowly builds through an
evolution of disparate elements for over a full minute before coalescing into a
spritely paced, densely layered introduction to the band’s unusual and
compelling songcraft. Although the album begins with an airy feeling and light
instrumentation, the closing song, “Colorado,” stirs low, heavy piano notes and
pulsing percussion into a heavy, meditative storm as the phrase, “Colorado,
what now?” repeats like an invocation until the song slowly reduces to the
hushed, persistent beat of a drum.
In 2007, I saw Grizzly
Bear tour in support of Yellow House two more times and each time I felt
like I learned more about the songs and how they worked so well together. Two
years later upon the release of their breakout third album, Veckatimest,
the band played in a much larger venue and it was thrilling to see them
thriving and enjoying the success of their hard work. In just a few weeks,
Grizzly Bear will release their fifth studio album, Painted Ruins, and
I’m eager to hear how the band has evolved in the five years since their last
album, Shields. After I first became acquainted with Yellow House
in New England, I lived in Oregon and back in my hometown in South Carolina
before moving to Colorado a few years ago. Nearly eleven years later, I still
feel like Yellow House has new things to tell me and I must admit that
more and more I find myself wondering, “Colorado, what now?”
-
John
Parsell
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