Artist: Portugal. The Man
Album: Evil Friends
Record Label: Atlantic Records
Released: June 4, 2013
Every now and then, mystery songs hit that are immediately enjoyable—a pleasure that’s simultaneously moving, inspiring, and resilient. Melodies stick in the brain for awhile, causing occasional freakish behaviors such as the unbeknownst humming and/or discreet head bopping for a party of one. Eventually this mind game dances the line between entertainment and irritation, causing an increasingly persistent need for more input. The quest: identify, acquire, and re-listen to the incessant tune (again and again).
Frequently, a successful completion of said quest results in a tinge of self-loathing. The discovery may reveal an artist’s career loot containing goods that include, but are not limited to, a lengthy discography, top-notch producer credits, and extensive completion of tours. Such rap sheet leaves one an impressed fool, and provokes questions such as, “Why am I only now hearing of these guys?!?” This is exactly what occurred as I listened to Evil Friends, the latest album by the five-piece Portland-based rock group Portugal. The Man, via the record’s title-track single.
Evil Friends is a really fun, solid listen, and by fun I mean it will rock you in a sweaty basement, word-of-mouth gig kind of way. The guys of Portugal. The Man have graduated from the soothe of indie rock that penetrated the early millennia, and fuzzed it up with 90’s hook sensibilities. Yet, let this not con you into believing the band is simply regurgitating a tired sound, for the songs on this record are far from predictable. Rather, Evil Friends delivers an updated vibe to the tried and true constructions of rock orchestration, as though the group aced a differentiation quiz between homage and imitation. Perhaps this is both a reflection of Portugal. The Man’s talents as well as collaborative efforts made with producer Danger Mouse, the songwriter, musician, and producer behind groups such as Gnarls Barkley and the Gorillaz.
One of the highlights of Evil Friends is standout song “Hip Hop Kids,” a jangly mix of reverb layered upon penetrating drums that cruise through what seems to be a eulogy to rock ‘n’ roll, a nostalgic appraisal of musical invention from subcultures come and gone. Frontman John Gourley’s voice jumps between nasally chatter-sing and melodic howls that pepper transitions between verse and chorus, the result of which is an explicit pop explosion perfect for long summer drives to nowhere in particular. Offering contrast, tracks such as the introductory “Plastic Soldiers” and median gem “Sea of Air” offer lighter, more mellow breaks to the raucousness without killing the record’s buzz.
Bottomline, Portugal. The Man has composed an album worthy of numerous listens in Evil Friends. In fact, I look forward to having its songs stuck in my head for weeks to come.
