Many Birthdays, Days of Beat/Days of Hollow

The self-released EP Days of Beat/Days of Hollow, from Austinites Many Birthdays is a fusion of sounds and moods, with lyrics sung in both English and Japanese. The music ranges, at any given instant, from some kind of jaunty indie-pop to darker, beat-heavy prog-rock and manages something almost unthinkable: it sounds at once shimmery and well-grounded, pretty and cynical, sexy and…humorous?

This is the band’s fourth release in about as many years, and looking back, the sound is consistently eclectic (yet another seeming contradiction, but one they somehow pull off beautifully), although tighter and more focused. I’ve heard comparisons justly made to a plethora of artists, including Ladytron, Beck, and Cibo Matto, and would like to further confuse with the addition of Stereolab and fellow Texans Japanic (of yore, that is…from Tex Kerschen, etc., now of Indian Jewelry). A weird profusion of similarities has been suggested by various sources but, to the credit of Many Birthdays, everyone seems to hear something different in their music, and while all these potential influences can be heard, none is overbearing enough that the music feels derivative or rehashed. In other words, you’re not listening to this and thinking “cover band.” Many Birthdays are like auditory fusion food, and who doesn’t love that?

Each of the five songs that constitute this latest effort is a unique venture, anything but interchangeable, with seemingly dissonant themes and sounds fading away only to reappear later in another song, tying everything together. Opening with a persistent tapping, the first song, “Freeway,” is hypnotic lyrics sung in Japanese over simple electropop keyboard. “Days Like Turtles” is a contemplative sunny-day ramble; the vocals are sour, twangy, like the unlikely offspring of Bob Dylan and David Byrne, and imbued somehow with a slightly cynical humor, as if we hear the wry little smile they are sung through. This is set up against rich layers of lush, beautiful sounds and vocals, interspersed with unbelievably catchy electronic effects.

“Handful of Zeros” begins with a darker, sexier beat and is punctuated by a robotic countdown giving way once more to detached thoughts filtered through that cynical smile. “Black Crow” follows form, with abrupt, staccato lyrics juxtaposed with eloquently eerie warbling and a heavy pulse that flows in and out as if underwater. It’s almost as if the vocals punctuate the songs like drumbeats, whilst the synthetic beat creates the flow. “Yume No Sekai” is dark, ethereal pop, like swimming at night in the ocean…with, like, a robot.

In the end, it’s really quite interesting. And whether or not “interesting” alone is adequate persuasion is up to the discerning reader here, but it seems that, more often than not, this is, in fact, a rather elusive quality. Aside from this, the sound is catchy enough that it can stick in your head (for good or for evil), just brimming with Japanese cyborg lyrics, pop melodies, and other assorted electronic loveliness, yet always with an undercurrent of refreshing darkness to counteract all that sunshine. Ah, yes, a well-balanced breakfast.