Rating: 
We here at ATH have had a pretty long and public love affair with the eerie bedroom quiet hazy style of Jason Quever and the Papercuts. But really, can you blame us? His outfit, on their sixth full album, seems to exemplify the cliché of getting better with age and so our love has been fed graciously. This go-round, the band takes a softer, more anthemic route, departing from their less subtle hits from 2011’s Fading Parade. The result is a gorgeous manifestation of songs that ebb and flow effortlessly into and out of the genres of pop and rock and somewhat ‘jam,’ all bathed in the soft glow of an intimate atmosphere that somehow comes with every Papercuts record.
The album opens with “Still Knocking At The Door,” that presents the newfound campy twist to band’s sound. Bouncy piano offers a contrast to the perfectly breathy vocals of Quever, generating a track that sounds sunny on the surface, but then you take another listen and begin to focus in on the lyrics, and they’re “not as happy as [they] might seem;” the passion in the vocals begins to bleed through with every choral hook. It’s a killer first track to a record, but before you dwell here for too long, the band has another doozy up next on “New Body,” which resonates the loudest, in my opinion after an initial listen through of the album. It starts out with a groovy amount of soft percussion, layers of synth-organ sounds, and of course, Quever’s chilling vocals. While slow, this number is still danceable and soon you’ll be singing along as well. The track progresses, slowly gaining traction and building, and just when you think it can’t get any better, Quever bursts into a chorus and is suddenly accompanied by string sounds that just push it over into the next, almost spiritual, level.
I could go on and into each individual song, as all nine are worthy of praise and affection, but I’d rather you go on and discover your own favorites from the record and give you the low down on the general style. There’s a mix of the continuation of the bouncing piano that you encountered earlier, as well as the strings that found their way into the earlier songs. What also follows are aspects that continue to contribute to the overall sweeping and glowing tone of the album. On “Afterlife Blues,” Quever is at his best with lyrics that are constantly searching for meaning while simultaneously telling a story and you end the song with gang vocals of soft and swaying “la-la-la’s,” that understatedly carries you off into the jam genre.
In short, Life Among The Savages has been in pretty constant rotation for the few weeks that it has been in my possession. It’s a dreamy thirty seven minutes of lo-fi goodness whose haunting melodies will push itself to the front of your mind long after you finish listening, with the perfect combination of tracks that immediately grab your attention and beg to be repeated and those that take a bit to really sink into your listening psyche. It’s in the running for my favorite album that’s been released so far this year, and I dare you to find out why. In all seriousness, go get your hands on it; you won’t be sorry you did.
Field Trip.
