On its second album, this Denton, Texas, quintet evokes the brooding propulsiveness of mid-’70s folk rock, with sepia harmonies, airy keyboards, subtle orchestration and an expansive mix of guitars. The strong vocal melodies are framed by a vivid yet empathetic interplay: the rhythm section in particular is briskly inventive, never intrusive, with new colors emerging every few bars of music.
This is the sound of discontent, of young men at odds with their world, yet determined to make something beautiful of it anyway. “Roscoe” longs for the simplicity of an isolated cabin built of cedars and stone, circa 1891. And “Van Occupanther,” about a back-yard scientist capable of conjuring water, pleads, “Let me not be too consumed with this world.” In its stead, Midlake strives to build a better one.
