If we weren’t getting the right kind of feeling or the song wasn’t growing in a way that was hitting at the core or getting the message across…” she says, struggling. “We’d basically work all day, and then we’d come back the next morning and blast the fucking shit out of it. But even that feeling is difficult for her to describe. More than pursuing any sort of stylistic benchmark, they were chasing a certain feeling in their music. They’re also not a studio creation, something she’s adamant about, making it a point to emphasize that every drum machine on the record was doubled by her live kit work. “I can’t fingerpick for the fucking life of me!”). Despite what some have claimed, they’re not making anything that should be described as folk music (“We never wanted to play acoustic guitars,” she says. When asked to describe what HAIM does sound like, Danielle seems less certain. I think you can ask anyone how people describe their music or comparing themselves to others, and they’ll say, ‘Eh…that’s not how I would describe it.’ I love TLC and I love Fleetwood Mac, but I don’t think our shit sounds like them mixed together or anything.” “When we were first coming out, the big thing was ‘They’re like TLC meets Fleetwood Mac!’ And I remember being like, ‘What?’ If someone fucking told me, ‘Hey, check out this band! They sound like TLC mixed with Fleetwood Mac,’ I’d say, ‘That sounds like the worst thing I’ve heard of in my entire life.’ I forget who was the first person who said that, but that’s how people described us. Some hear classic rock bands such as Fleetwood Mac, some hear TLC, and some hear both. Some celebrate HAIM for making an album that represents a timeless and unpretentious take on intricately textured, heart-on-sleeve pop songcraft others criticize them for those same qualities, finding their songs slick, superficial, and a little too eager to please. Others hear ‘70s classic rock (The Eagles, Heart, Tom Petty) in the sisters’ sturdy harmonies and Danielle’s jagged guitar leads. For some, HAIM are purveyors of deliriously melodic pop music, steeped in the production of the Top 40 hits of the 1980s (Michael Jackson, Madonna, Pat Benatar, Sheena Easton) and the sexy grooves of the female-fronted R&B groups of the 1990s (Destiny’s Child, En Vogue). As if looking at a musical Rorschach test, everyone acknowledges the objective form and shape of Days Are Gone, but no one agrees on quite what it means.
If they did read the reviews, they’d probably be pleased but a little bit confused. I keep telling her to stop, but she’s so proud. “So I can’t get away from them, because she’s so excited that she posts them on her Facebook. “It’s bad because my mom is really excited about it, and she’s sending me reviews and I see them all,” sighs Alana. They don’t know yet that when the sales are finally tallied, their album will debut at #1 in Great Britain, #2 in Australia, and #6 on the Billboard Top 200 in the United States, and each of them admits that they are trying to avoid reading any reviews that would indicate just how their album is registering critically. Eldest sister and bassist Este, usually the comedian of the group, is surprisingly subdued, stumbling over her words and repeatedly confusing song titles. Middle sister, singer and guitarist Danielle, is struggling to focus, trailing off and apologetically asking me to repeat my questions after forgetting what she’s talking about. Baby sister, keyboardist and guitarist Alana, has come precariously close to losing her voice, giggling as she hoarsely rasps into the phone. Less than 24 hours ago, they were in top form onstage for an intimate performance at Rough Trade East in London this afternoon, after nearly two years of writing, recording, and touring, the Los Angeles trio appears to be finally wearing down. Their debut album, Days Are Gone, has only been out for two days, but the Haim sisters are already exhausted.
0 kommentar(er)
