The light, folky music of Madison, Wisconsin indie-poppers Gentle Brontosaurus feels the perfect spring tonic. Yet listen to the lyrics of Three Hares and you’ll hear loss and grief, loneliness and isolation, and the frustrations of modern existence transmitted cheerfully by this energetic quintet.
It’s been eight years since Gentle Brontosaurus’ last album, 2018’s Bees of the Invisible. The current lineup swaps Scott Stetson for Cal Lamore on guitars, but is otherwise stable, and the band sounds better than ever with a more balanced mix on most of the tracks. Wisconsin Area Music Industry award nominee Huan-Hua Chye carries the bulk of the vocal duties, and her sweet, pure soprano floats over the songs. Crisp, lively percussion from drummer Paul Marcou keeps the tracks moving, Anneliese Valdes’ bass anchors and adds richness, and shimmery guitar from Stetson gives the whole ensemble a bit of a country-rock kick.
Lead single ‘Luxury Bones’ introduces the album. The bouncy, jangly number grapples with the modern challenges of stable work and medical benefits, but in classic Gentle Bronto style, it’s all delivered breezily, a wry smile to a difficult reality but a commitment to dance anyway. The charming, sometimes winsome delivery on Three Hares belies the often-poignant lyrics, even working at cross-purposes to it, as on the painful ‘Blue’: “I just want to be an all-American, corn-fed, apple pie girl/ Milk-pale skin, calling my parents by their first names, hair that holds a curl/ Prying open my eyes in the mirror/ Trying to make them just a little bit bigger /Trying out names that sound a little bit whiter/ Wishing my eyes were blue”.
The infectious ‘Major Arcana’ follows ‘Luxury Bones’. Marcou’s percussion is brisk and catchy, harmonies add the perfect punch, and the lyrics are unexpected and delightful. “I saw you trying on those new blue jeans/ Buying charms against mortality/ You had the face/ Of the Empress in my Rider-Waite deck/ Starry crown around the stories in your head”. By the end of the song, we realise it’s a love letter to a dead friend. It’s another song where the music sits askew to the message, here protecting the listener from an overdose of sentimentality and focused, instead, on its colourful character portrait.
Second single ‘My Favorite Monster’, with its light vocals, prominent keyboard riff and precise drums, evokes Au Revoir Simone. Lyrics are jammed in, so tightly sometimes that they defy discernment: “Hard to tell the difference between a god and a monster/ Or if the woman in the video actually wants it” seems to contain several more syllables than the music anticipates, and the final line of the chorus, “Loneliness looks just like a man”, feels heavy-handed. But the track is leavened by fresh chord changes and a shapely arrangement, with a driving chorus that nicely sets off the more minimal verses.
Relationships on Three Hares are defined with beautifully specific details. In ‘Cassini’: “Drinking wine on the balcony, we argue about Neil Degrass Tyson/ And whether he’s cool or just insufferable/ His vests are a topic of hot debate”. The song draws an unusual but indelible parallel: “You take your ring off, put it on the bedside table/ While on TV, they simulate the falling of the satellite into the great unknown/ In the space between Saturn and its rings, there’s just an emptiness that surprised all the scientists/ And in the dark I’m falling into the great unknown”. In Tumbleweed, stuck in a rut and desperate for escape, “I sit across from you at Denny’s, eating Moons over My Hammy,/ Pretending I like you for your intellect…/ I want to taste your chapstick when we say goodbye”.
Stetson’s vocal turns on his compositions, ‘Edge to Lose’ and ‘Agatha’s Ashes’, add punch, his hard-edged tenor set against cushiony harmonies. His writing may not be as sophisticated as Chye’s, but his tracks provide welcome textural variation and a sprinkling of country flavor. Soft-voiced Nick Davies, more prominent on earlier Gentle Bronto releases, contributes vocals and songwriting to album closer ‘Feeling of an Earthquake’. His voice wavers here and there when solo, but blends exquisitely with the female harmonies on the choruses. Davies’ trumpet is wielded to advantage, notably on this track and on ‘Loneliest Bird’.
The tracks were mixed by the band, and, while the mix is improved over past efforts, there are several places where the percussion and lead guitar sit in front of the rest — including the lead vocal. The guitar riffs seem to nip nimbly around the vocal line, like a neon outline, an unusual but appealing effect; but the percussion feels overdriven in these spots, punching the listener in the face in ways that don’t align with the lyrics or music.
The emotional content is present all over the lyrics on Three Hares, but to some degree it fails to engage — the music almost too pretty to feel heartfelt. But all in all, this is a lovely, listenable album, with many pleasing details. It may skim lightly over its sober matters, but fans of sweet folk-pop will find much to enjoy, and the attentive ear will find many points of connection.
