Hospitality releases danger-filled tracks

Hospitality, led by front woman Amber Papini, made its debut in 2012 with a self-titled album, a tongue-in-cheek allusion to the band’s indie-darling sound that was described by many critics, including Rachael Maddux at Pitchfork, as “cardigan-rock.” The band sounds like the kid sister of the more established Belle and Sebastian, but Hospitality’s balanced execution gives the band a glimmer of promise.

‘Rockets and Jets’ · Hospitality branches out and takes on an edgier sound, while still remaining true to their indie-pop roots. The trio follows this year’s trend by adding static instrumentation to their pop tracks. – Photo courtesy of Merge Records

Trouble, Hospitality’s second album, kicks off with a determined agenda, as though the band has something to prove to its audience. At first, the sound introduces a wailing electric guitar paired with Papini’s reverb-affected howl. It quickly sinks into simplicity with unobtrusive and hardly-present instrumentation that leaves Papini’s voice floating, suspended in half-silence. The music pulses up and down like an electrocardiograph.

This style is certainly a departure from cardigan-rock and the delicate vocals featured on their first album, which were as soft, demure and inoffensive as cotton. The rock was cleaner, more likely to be played at the beach than in a dark nightclub. It was sweet and poppy, with a safe edge. This time, however, Hospitality, which has always had the tools and skillset to paint it black, gets a shade darker. With synthesizers and thumping bass to supplement its original sound, the band delves into their own unexplored territory. The trio displays a tremendous versatility; from dance to rock to lo-fi, the music strives to be — and shows that it can be — anything.

On “Rockets and Jets” and “I Miss Your Bones,” Papini’s voice is full of twang and a Chrissie Hynde-like attitude. Layering on double vocals in an electro-fog, Hospitality goes the way many musicians have this year: into a pop that’s made fuzzy by static instruments.

It all halts with the hypnotizing “Sullivan,” the album’s interlude and the song that distinguishes the album’s distinct parts. In the tune (and those that follow), the instrumentation is stripped down, sometimes tinkling in tune with Papini’s voice but hardly registering above a hum. The music heightens fleetingly when her whisper tapers off but dims just as quickly when she resumes her crooning.

The kind of trouble represented on the latter half of the album volleys between innocent coquetry and gleaming mystery. On “It’s Not Serious,” Papini channels the sweet naivety of Zooey Deschanel and delivers the same message the doe-eyed vixen gives Joseph Gordon-Levitt in (500) Days of Summer. “I don’t think I want this,” she sings about a boy who’s walked her home from a party, “So it’s not serious.” She shows her heartbreaking recklessness by still reminding him: “Tell all your girlfriends / Tell them you’ll be out all night.”

After a swelling synth track that evokes the style of the band Phantogram, Papini slinks into something more comfortable and churns out a pair of ballads that tie the album up. In each track, her voice opens against the plucking strings of a softer guitar and a timid drumbeat that picks up the pace. Both accentuate the breathiness of her voice, which sounds as though it’s caught in a cave, perpetually mid-echo.

But the album is equally about being in trouble as it is about causing it. The culprits this time are the usual suspects: love, loss and loneliness. On “I Miss Your Bones,” the melancholy mood is made almost cheery with an upbeat kick drum, but Papini sings of a lost lover: “All the stars will twinkle in the mist of the sea / The black on me will ever seem lost like abyss.”

When Hospitality bares its vulnerability, Papini’s voice cuts through the silence in the same way that admitting the truth cuts through. On the final track “Call Me After,” she sings with a sad whisper, “Will you want me after / will you want to walk me home in the dark / Or is it just the weather that just keeps me.” The way her voice echoes in the pauses, bridging the lapse in the noise, is difficult to pull off, but Papini does it with grace.

Papini carries Hospitality with a bravado of acts, the likes of Zola Jesus, MS MR and London Grammar — sultry, but sweet with a tamed power that oozes confidence. It’s a quality that always solicits a second listen.

The band makes brave efforts to be everything it isn’t while being true to what it is, but seems too afraid to fully commit. There are shining moments on Trouble, and Hospitality has certainly made new strides, however.

Did it all work? Is it convincing? The result is hard to pinpoint, but Trouble is definitely compelling.

Hospitality is performing at The Echo on Feb. 13, at 8:30 p.m. Tickets can be purchased on The Echo’s website.