If you’ve lived in the Midwestern United States you’re undoubtedly familiar with the trope about the highest elevation point being the nearby interstate highway overpass. Fruit Bats’ front man Eric D. Johnson realized that near larger towns and cities, those structures were surpassed by another manmade edifice of sorts, the landfill. Standing on these mountains of mankind’s detritus, Johnson could metaphorically see further yet was directly connected to the past. Those hills, and what they stood for, became the connecting thread in Fruit Bats’ twelfth studio album, The Landfill.
The record’s title track, actually the closer on the CD, is in many ways the simplest arrangement of the collection. It underscores the premise that looking down from the high point is “like a holy vision of what could be, and couldn’t be, and could have been.” Another number that leans to a rootsier sound is That Goddamn Sun, an inward looking assessment that a bright, sunny day is needed to clear away the mental overcast. Perhaps We’re a Storm also leans on a meteorological comparison to characterize a relationship, this time with the visual image of being “shot out of the water slide into the deep end.”
With 25+ years under his belt making records with various bands Johnson has absorbed a lot of musical style influences that make subtle appearances here. The Saddest Part of the Song is an indie waltz about someone who’s definitely a glass-half-empty person. All Wounds carries a touch of yacht rock in a Dear John story where her line is, “I’m sorry but I’m betting on myself.” Think Aboutcha inserts a little 50’s style keyboard in a retro indie twist on a love song. Silverfish in the Sink has the sound of a cheap upright piano mimicking the less-than-desirable apartment living arrangement that’s a fun bit of psychedelic pop. Also fun is Fishin’ For a Vision, with the syncopated rhythm belying the sorrow of losing someone.
For much of Fruit Bats artistic trajectory, Eric D. Johnson has spent considerable time getting the songs just right, both in their composition and in the production. You can also hear that in some of his other projects, including Bonny Light Horseman and his time in The Shins. For his latest record, he wanted to let in more of the interplay a decade of being together as a band has honed and polished. Whether or not this is the new norm for Fruit Bats is anyone’s guess. Either way, The Landfill gives you a glimpse of their future while standing firmly on their past.
About the author: I've actually driven from Tehatchapee to Tonopah. And I've seen Dallas from a DC-9 at night.