The story of Milwaukee’s Jaill sounds like it was ripped straight out of a screenplay for the indie hit of the year: Vincent Kircher and Austin Dutmer realize they’re getting older and decide to finally get serious about their part-time band they started seven years ago which had, until then, only amounted to losing bass players and floating under the radar, sporadically playing a friend’s basement or an empty venue. One year and a stable lineup later and they’ve found themselves with a two-record deal on Sub Pop.
With their Sub Pop debut, That’s How We Burn, It’s hard to pin down Jaill to any particular genre. Their self-described term “psych-pop” leaves something out of the mix. It would be easy to lump Jaill in the same category as Sub Pop success story The Shins at first listen due to Kircher’s vocal styling and the seemingly ambiguous lyrics, yet after a few listens it’s apparent that that comparison completely misses the mark. They obviously have a wide range of influences and take the best parts of each type of music they love, incorporating equal parts indie-pop and old-fashioned rock n’ roll, a hard-on for rockabilly, and a well-worn denim jacket hidden in a closet somewhere that still has all of the punk buttons and patches on it from high school.
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The album opens with “The Stroller.” While a good song, it’s a strange choice of an opener, as it only serves to misrepresent the rest of the album. The fact that they released the next song, “Everyone’s Hip,” as the first single is another strange choice; it’s a pretty weak song compared to the remainingtracks. The next two songs, “On the Beat” and “Thank Us Later,” are both incredibly strong, nailing the slacker surf sleaze Jaill does best. The latter of these two songs, with its stoned slide guitar and impenetrable-yet-heartbreaking lyrics, is easily the soundtrack to your worst summer breakup. “Baby I” is another gem, as it rips a page from Elvis Costello’s book, but warps and wraps it with Beach Boys-y doo-wops and lyrics reflecting an aging desperation. The sub-par lyrics and pseudo-metal riff on “Demon” makes the song the only real miss — everything about it screams “filler track.”
While Jaill’s music burns, Kircher’s lyrics proves him to be the real thief of fire: “Grass that fit in my lungs had me hopeful till you held a hunger strike in the hall/and made me crawl and the leaves fell welcomes us to fall,” and “It’s all been done in front of me and I still ain’t knowing how/your world it grows like an enemy inside me’s how I feel right now” from “Thank Us Later” perfectly describes a failed relationship with fresh and vivid imagery. It’s amazing what Kircher’ and Jaill are able to craft using drugs and girls as the predominant subject matter. Even more amazing is their way of doing it while charming the pants off of anyone.
(Sub Pop Records, 2013 Fourth Avenue, Third Floor, Seattle, WA 98121)