Evan Andree – Invisible Sap Review
An evolution from synth-lead pop to guitar-driven indie comes off as a natural success and goes to show just how far Evan Andree could go.
This review is long overdue. It should’ve signed off the end of last year but instead it starts this year off with an uplifting ring. I would like to thank Evan Andree for his patience during my shambolic arranging of myself these past weeks, and congratulate him on a great EP.
So I’m sat here, back home for Christmas and New Year, one hand fervently shaking a mug of coffee from my bedside table to my mouth, and the other teaming up with the rest of its arm as it acts as a shelf to an Anthology of American Literature that I’m scrambling through to get up to date on the required reading I haven’t even looked at until now. In the background I have Evan Andree’s Invisible Sap EP on loop on my iTunes. It’s helping.
Setting aside Emily Dickinson, with her flowery fascination and morbid fixation, for a moment – Evan Andree is an American artists hailing from Atlanta, Georgia; a city once labelled ‘too busy to hate’ on account of the progressive ideals of its citizens and politicians during the Civil Rights Movement. Though if Evan Andree’s music is anything to go by – whilst they may have been too busy to hate they’re certainly not too busy to love.
The first track of this three track EP is the fittingly titled American Dream, given my current position – sandwiched between that anthology of American literature and rereading The Great Gatsby. For those already be familiar with Evan Andree for his track Panic, or just the Nike UK ‘Find Your Greatness’ ad campaign that featured it, might be a little surprised. Pleasantly though I’d hope.
Whereas that track was an electronica infused slice of synth pop, akin to that of Passion Pit, American Dream starts with indie guitar melodies and a Springsteenian chug before Andree’s unique vocals see us through to a big chord driven chorus that sits somewhere between Ryan Adams and Motion City Soundtrack. The remaining two tracks follow suit along this more guitar driven indie alleyway; Your Song’s opening fretwork sounds like mid-period Oasis before it melds itself to a shuffling, acoustic-indie love song and Mr Teleportation brings to mind a more subdued, though no less anthemic, Gaslight Anthem with an emo-pop inflection.
Though a stark developmental-contrast from Andree’s earlier dabbling in a framework, and soundscape, more in line with that of Beach House and, the aforementioned, Passion Pit it doesn’t seem in anyway contrived. In fact, it seems to ring out of Andree just as naturally, if not more so.