Spokane

While many bands that employ the suburban orchestra sound of Godspeed, Sigur Rós or Mogwai make their music to eventually crash into peaks of rage, sadness or beauty (or a combination of the three), Spokane makes their point by avoiding this. The band’s latest album, Measurement, feels like a half drawn breath. The songs pass with a subdued melancholy, feeling like the eye of the storm, but never pushing beyond that eerie calm. What works so well about Spokane is songwriter Rick Alverson’s ability to capture the between moments of everyday life. The music doesn’t strive to feel like your saddest hour, it’s just burnt toast and missed busses. Working much like comic writer Alex Tomine, Alverson has a way of making these small things define a bigger feeling. This works brilliantly as any kind of a shift toward a climax in the songs is an elation. It’s this kind of truly sophisticated songwriting that makes Measurement work so well. There is no promise with each song, just a feeling being expanded amidst enough reverb to drown a goat.