Wolf People, Tidings
A time warp between the Zombies and Yeasayer
Wolf People’s debut Tidings feels like it was plucked out of a time warp. For one thing, the frazzled, fuzzbox guitar leads, sitar-like drones and analog warmth of Tidings‘ production immediately recall an alternate reality where the Zombies and Love not only became superstars, but influencers, hefting the same power as the Beatles or Beach Boys. But Tidings is also out of time with itself; this is a re-release of a record that came out in 2010, which itself was a collection of Jack Sharp’s recordings that spanned from 2005-07, years that served as a buffer between the prominence of freak-folk and indie-psych typified by Brooklyn acts like Yeasayer and Chairlfit. Tidings doesn’t fit there either, but the scattered nature is a huge part of the appeal. Fully formed pieces like “Black Water’ and “Cotton Strands” make up the bulk of Tidings, adding idiosyncratic touches like flanged vibraphone and flute soloing to Wolf People’s bedrocks of close harmonies, county faire lyricism and crunchy snares. But they lay sideways with loopy, abstract interludes that suggest all that time traveling can be a bum trip too.