Made Fun!

One of the more relevant ways the digital revolution has changed music is by giving us more customization. iTunes, personal mp3 players, and sites like Pandora have allow us to make the entire music landscape a perpetual game of Soundtrack To Your Life.

Listeners can be as general or as particular as we please. I have one playlist labeled “R&B Joints” and another playlist labeled “When realize you left your phone too late to go back and can’t tweet your fail because you need a phone for that,” and they both capture details about my personality and tastes. As music lovers, we can constantly tailor our music consumption, only giving rotation to what we know will hit the spot.

There has been some argument that this level of access and ability to separate out individual songs devalues artistic packaging. There’s some worry that it takes away from the experience of listening through a complete work, but that’s too simplistic. It’s all part of the challenge to embrace a new kind of consumer interaction. Artists have to create experiences that feel complete both over the web and offline. What it really does is make fans appreciate when we don’t need to do any work at all. I do enough work throughout the day. I love when I don’t have to think about my music lineup because Genius, Pandora, or — surprise, surprise — a whole album already delivers exactly what I need track after track.

Have you heard Briar Rabbit’s The Company You Keep? This album does all the heavy-lifting for you.

I’ve had Briar Rabbit’s debut since it was released February 1st. I’ve spent the last couple weeks trying to figure out just what to say about it. Instinct has helped with that in the end. I’ve been packing up things slowly, moving into a new apartment, and I turned on this album when wanted to put something on, confident that I wouldn’t have to tinker with it every few minutes or skip a song I didn’t like as much.

The main man behind Briar Rabbit — Phillip-Michael Scales — hardly counts as a newcomer to making records, despite what the word ‘debut’ suggests. He’s had other solo projects (Phillipism) and fronted independent bands I’ve loved (This Is How Rumors Get Started), but his latest project takes all of those musical efforts to a different place.

He’s a man in transition as well, and it shows in his music. Phillip recently picked up and moved to Chicago. The changes in his life are reflected in Briar Rabbit’s repertoire. “Numbers,” the first song on The Company You Keep was originally written while Rumors were still booking gigs. Without the band, it plays like the ‘previously on’ promo for a TV show you’ve loved. Last season, Phillip was in Boston. The cost of living was high, and he couldn’t seem to settle comfortably in the place or with the people. Now he’s moved a few hundred miles away, and on the album’s title track, quite literally explains that They say you’re only as good as the company you keep /but lately I’ve been keeping to myself. He sings a changed man’s song in a changed location, making the sentiments relatable — perfect for a listener’s own transitory mood.

Buoying between familiar elements, like the boy/girl harmonies on “Putch,” and a wealth of metaphors about self-reflection and moving on allow Briar Rabbit to make conclusions about the past without fully dismissing them. Everyone likes a good ‘fuck you’ record, but cuts about personal growth stick under the skin a little longer. The Company You Keep ultimately stays an album about hope for fresh encounters (or “new mistakes” as one track suggests) instead of bitter condemnation of old experiences. It’s an album about moving on instead of regretting with “Tread Lightly” at its climax, an earnest plea to not only find better outcomes but to learn how to recognize and accept them.

Briar Rabbit’s The Company You Keep is an album about finding a new voice. It takes a couple listens to really absorb its dynamism, partially because it’s easy to get caught up in humming along but also because Scales tests out the waters for a 20-something on the verge almost too cautiously at times. After the melancholy of “Putch,” I keep wanting the guitars on “Make New Mistakes” to stand out more — punch me out with the dare to break old routines. Though if the only real complaint for a record is, “Dude, be more self-indulgent; wile out longer,” then things could be a whole lot worse.

When it comes down to it — Briar Rabbit sounds good, and there should be more. The Company You Keep clocks in at just over 30 minutes, making it a concise and effective album, but hopefully the second record will see this new and improved Phillip-Michael Scales settled into the midwest, heels more rooted in the sound. Will it skew farther toward alt-country? “Tread Lightly” and “Float” suggest that could be the direction, but doubling back to a heavier indie pop aesthetic would make just as much sense.

And that’s the real triumph of the record. Above all, The Company You Keep makes me set the album to repeat, engrossed in the instrumentation, intrigued by the lyrics, and excited about how else Briar Rabbit evolves.

Check out Briar Rabbit

Stream The Company You Keep on Briar Rabbit’s website: http://www.briarrabbit.net/

In Chicago? See Briar Rabbit @ Double Door on Monday, March 7th!