Yeltsin gets lyrical lovin’

By JOSEPH HEENAN

Broom Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin October 2006

out of

… Broom Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin October 2006 out of

Despite taking its name from the famously iconoclastic Russian politician, Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin has produced an enjoyably familiar album. Full of jangly guitars, poppy vocal hooks and bright keyboard melodies, Broom makes an excellent accompaniment on a sunny day. Its lyrics are memorable without being cliche and the instrumentation enjoyable without being overly simplistic.

Broom opens with “Pangea,” a song with a bouncy bass line, overdriven guitars and forceful vocal delivery. The protagonist of the song describes a relationship in an interestingly metaphorical way: “Pangea, we used to be together/Why’d we ever drift apart?” he laments.

The second track on the album, “I Am Warm + Powerful,” presents a nuanced take on a failing social circle. The song makes a surprising turn from lamenting a dying social scene to celebrating a relationship formed between the protagonist and one of the girls in the crowd. Yeltsin’s frontman clearly and emphatically enunciates the situation: “We don’t get out very much/We don’t get out very much/I’m afraid we’re losing touch with our balled-up little crowd,” he sings.

He continues, his voice straining with undertones of frustration and relief: “When we get out we get drunk/and we get high and don’t talk/we just walk and walk and walk and walk until we find ourselves alone, but at least we’ve got each other.”

Other standouts on the album include the playfully simplistic “Oregon Girl.” The narrator simply celebrates an acquaintance of his: “Oregon girl I’ve been around the world, but I’ve never seen another Oregon girl/Oregon girl, with your lips and your curls, I want a taste of that Oregon girl.”

The tempo of the song gradually increases with a feverishly strummed rhythm guitar – with its confrontational vocal delivery and celebratory lyrics, “Oregon Girl” makes for a surprisingly catchy piece.

Yeltsin follows up this number with the more somber “House Fire.” It’s a song that feels almost jazzy in its employment of minor chords and a sweetly melodic, acoustic guitar solo. The song’s slow pace only accentuates the melancholy message of the lyrics: “We did what we could/To save this house from falling/But it burns because it’s wood/And now you’ll never call me darling.”

The debut of Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin is significant because it represents a nuanced, carefully crafted pop album that proves itself to be consistently enjoyable. It’s refreshing to hear an album that’s as relentlessly interesting, engaging and toe-tapping as Yeltsin’s debut – as awkward as this band’s name may be, the songs feel effortless.

But for its brevity and occasionally sub-par numbers (see “What’ll We Do” and “Travel Song”), Broom marks one of this season’s most exciting new albums.