There’s a clothing store in Bathurst called The Tin Goose. I know this because I’ve been there. I once tried on a pair of very dapper slacks that, alas, just didn’t quite fit these childbearing hips as neatly as I would have liked. Shit was tight. And despite the shop-keep’s ever-friendly words of flattery, I left ‘The Tin Goose’ empty-handed under the conclusion that there was just no real comfort to be had there. I could only get away with wearing those pants for so long before things started to chafe.
Bear with me—this is indeed a Tin Sparrow review. But the name of that Sydney three-piece instantly rekindled in me the memory of my fruitless day in Bathurst. Probably for pretty obvious reasons: ‘tin goose’, ‘tin sparrow’; potayto, potahto. But now it also strikes me that this might actually be a rather (pardon the pun) fitting anecdote to sum up just what it is about Tin Sparrow’s latest track that doesn’t quite (pardon the pun) sit right with me. Allow me to elaborate.
Either we got a little bigger around the waist, or Sydney’s Tin Sparrow just got a little tighter. What do you think of their single Echo In The Dark?
Tin Sparrow* fall into a certain country folk canon with artists like Fleet Foxes, Boy & Bear and Alexander Ebert (of Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros prestige). It’s that kind of jangling, foot-stomping, beard-twirling genre that’s very much carved out a place in the musical landscape of today—and, for the most part, Tin Sparrow do a decent job of it. But the most exciting moments for music like this are often the loosest: when the rugged beast shakes free of the hitching post and all but threatens to run away with the saddle.
It’s the brilliantly unhinged and unpredictable vocal bridge of Boy & Bear’s Rabbit Song; or the freeform, stream-of-consciousness ramblings of Ebert’s Truth. It’s the strange, refreshing pleasure of hearing Marcus Mumford say “fuck” in his clipped British tone. It’s the sing-as-you-go vibes of Little Bastard’s Little Bastard. All loose. All natural. All good.
What feels off with Tin Sparrow’s latest release Echo In The Dark is that it’s hitched a little too rigidly. That’s not to say that it’s a poor track. It isn’t. There’s something there in the choral melodies and the sharp, punchy percussion; the song is praiseworthy for its crisp, straightforward momentum and its meaningful lyricism.
But for a band of this genre it all just feels a little too clean-cut, a little too predictable, a little too safe, and so a little too forgettable. Essentially, it’s all just too tight—like a certain pair of slacks that never quite made it to the counter (see what I did there?)
It may well, mind, be the song that carries them into the next echelon of Soundcloud hits and Triple J airplay. It’s certainly got the hook for it. But in the humble opinion of yours truly, it’s Tin Sparrow’s slightly looser moments— like My Own or The Boat—that really show off the promise of this fledgling band. Namely, because those songs have enough daring and pizzazz to draw me back for another listen. In my underwear.
*Just an editorial aside to mention that TS played at one of the very first Happy shows in 2010 at The Sly Fox. Fun times. There may have been a couple more members in the band back then.
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