Pigeons

A helpful banner on Here We Go Magic’s MySpace page tells us the band is 'for fans of Yeasayer, Animal Collective and Grizzly Bear.' And although yeah, there’s a modicum of Animal Collective’s joyful electronic shimmer, Grizzly Bear’s wistful romance and Odd Blood's sometimes unorthodox pop sensibilities to be found in the hazy folds of Pigeons, really, it’s not that apt a series of comparisons. The decision to use the most visible players in leftfield pop as a reference point will no doubt do HWGM no end of favours by bringing them to the attention of a multitude of audiences, but it’s worth pointing out from the get go that far from being derivative, they’re peddling a tune completely of their own.

Remember those Claritin commercials? You know the ones. There’s some spokeswoman in the middle of a green, green field holding a tennis racket or other athletic device and rubbing her allergic eyeballs. Then they pull a layer of something saran-wrap-like up from one corner of the screen and suddenly everything’s the kind of vivid bright you didn’t know to expect, because until they removed the film, the slightly hazier version looked pretty normal. Nice, even, because once the gauze has been removed, you seem to need sunglasses — everything’s a little too blinding.

In hindsight, with the passing release of Here We Go Magic’s sophomore effort and debut for Secretly Canadian, Pigeons, its reception among the music press that had hotly tipped it as the band’s breakthrough album now seems coolly anti-climactic. Following a quietly celebrated sleeper with last year’s self-titled record, an opening slot on Grizzly Bear’s Veckatimest tour, and the triumphant jump to the Indiana-based indie super label, Here We Go Magic stood poised on the threshold of fulfilling the bubbling potential gurgling throughout frontman Luke Temple’s previous output. Yet with the glimpse into lead single “Collector”—all swirling washes of fuzzy, kaleidoscopic pop confetti—Temple and his cohorts seemingly peaked before sloping into a rather indifferent reaction from fans and critics alike, a puzzling response that provokes even further head-scratching after several months of absorption reveal Pigeons as a spangled hidden gem buried beneath 2010’s high profile releases.

Listeners crave tidy narratives. Thus, when "Collector", the second track from Here We Go Magic's second LP and first as a full band, Pigeons, began to make the blog rounds, there was quite a bit of chatter about the album possibly being the band's-- and its bandleader, Luke Temple's-- breakout moment. Makes sense: It's hard to listen to "Collector"-- one of the finest pieces of post-Sufjan Stevens chamber pop-- and not get excited about something. Can anyone be blamed for hoping that the rest of the record would endlessly vibe on that theme?

Here We Go Magic's self-titled 2009 debut was the effort of one man, Luke Temple, who traded in his singer-songwriter cred for a shot at art-rock. And while it really felt like the work of one guy, the album still managed to forge an unlikely path to the head of the latest wave of Brooklyn hipsters. Now, on the Here We Go Magic long-player Pigeons, Temple has a five-piece band behind him, and the resulting album could turn out to be one of the year's best.