Brandt Brauer Frick switch it up a bit for
Joy. Six of the ten tracks on the "emotional body music" trio's previous studio album, the expansive Miami, showcased as many vocalists, while all ten here -- not one of which is longer than five-and-a-half minutes -- involve
Beaver Sheppard, a Montreal-based poet, songwriter, and singer from Newfoundland. The album's gist is indicated more by the black-and-white close-up of
Sheppard's distressed face than by the title.
BBF produce, arrange, and handle the drums, synthesizers, and piano work, receiving ancillary support on percussion, trombone, cello, violin, bass, and guitar. They allow adequate space for
Sheppard and keep the reins tight enough to suit traditional song structures, even when they seem to be on the brink of a thrilling diversion. The tension and unease conveyed in
BBF's earlier output is present here and is magnified by
Sheppard, who comes across as an anxious bohemian drifting and acquiring wisdom through a nocturnal and aimless existence. Tracks such as "Poor Magic," "Society Saved Me," and "Oblivious" are among the trio's most startling and physical work, while "Facetime" -- where
Sheppard's droning wariness somewhat resembles that of
Hood's Chris Adams -- achieves a previously untapped bittersweet delicacy. ~ Andy Kellman