Foam Castles

Last June, Foam Castles’ Night Crawling earned the distinction of being proclaimed Local Rock Album of the Summer in these pages. This year, Foam Castles returns with Molly’s Jungle, a strong contender for a second consecutive title, though with the new Brenda record scheduled to drop before the solstice, it’s too soon to bestow that imaginary award.

On the first two album, Foam Castles was basically Tyler Jackson and his girlfriend, Ritu Moondra, augmented by a few session guests. The couple moved to L.A. shortly after Night Crawling was released, and now Jackson is back in Maine.

Moondra’s contribution to Molly is limited to vocals on one track and some lyrics. Her singing is missed, but with the help of Brenda drummer D.J. Moore and guests like Jay Lobley (of Metal Feathers), Jackson largely makes up for the hole Moondra’s absence has left in Foam Castles’ sound.

Standout tracks include the galloping opener, “Welcome to Molly’s Jungle,” which features Lobley on organ and Jackson carving out some killer fuzz-tone guitar lines. “Garage From Slingblade” has the easygoing grace that made Night Crawling cuts like “Shipwrecked Shores” so perfect for sunny days in a lawn chair. The driving psych-rock of “Took It Home” really scores, as does the hazy indie-pop of “Fruit of Today.”

But on balance, moodier songs set the tone of Molly’s Jungle, like “Our Dark City,” on which Jackson seems to contemplate starting another Great Fire to get a certain someone’s attention. “I trust you’ll see the blazes when you check up on the north,” he sings, then adds offhandedly, “It’s not a threat, just an idea, you know / The dry docks of the port will go up first.”

“Myrtle Street,” a monologue set to eerie atmospherics a la Big Star’s “Big Black Car,” is a cool downer. Likewise “Down River,” an almost jazzy shuffle that follows it and leads to the languorous closer, “A Summer Wind.”

In the years to come, Molly’s Jungle will likely be considered the transitional record in Jackson’s oeuvre, the bridge to even greater music to come. We can hope for as much, anyway.

— Chris Busby

Foam Castles plays Thurs., May 13, with Gully and Theodore Treehouse, at Geno’s, 625 Congress St., Portland, at 9 p.m. Call 221-2382 for cover (21+). The band also plays Honey Clouds’ CD release party on Fri., May 28, at SPACE Gallery, 538 Congress St., Portland, at 9:30 p.m. Tix: $6 (18+). - The Bollard

In 2005, it was Satellite Lot’s masterful Second Summer. The next year, it was Cult Maze’s revelatory debut, The Ice Arena. This year, Foam Castles’ Night Crawling is the Local Rock Album of the Summer. Its lovely yet stormy, finely crafted and slightly damaged indie-pop is the perfect soundtrack to the season here in Maine, where the chill never recedes for long.

The creative core of Foam Castles is comprised of co-vocalists Tyler Jackson and Ritu Moondra, a young Portland couple due, sadly, to leave for L.A. this July. Jackson (who recently completed an academic internship with The Bollard) handles guitar and bass and adds some percussion. Moondra’s on Casiotone and microKORG, a digital keyboard prized for its ability to sound like an analog synthesizer.

The pair released a full-length album, Why We Walk, just a few months before Night Crawling. (Both are available for free download at foamcastles.com.) On Walk, Jackson and Moondra handled pretty much all the instrumentation. For this sophomore release they brought pianist Mike Beling and drummer Max Heinz aboard, in addition to some guest players, and now the band’s twice as good.

Walk has some strong songs, but Crawling is crawling with ’em. Nothing disappoints; nearly everything enchants.

The opener, “Eastern Drawl,” could be the feel-good hit of the summer (that is, if the gorgeous third track, “Shipwrecked Shores,” doesn’t hit first). Driving and infectious, “Drawl” is a sunny nugget of acoustic-electro pop that’ll win you over at once. Moondra’s sweet and unassuming vocals are a great counterpoint to Jackson’s flatter, more detached delivery, just as her loopy keyboard bits brighten his hard-strummed acoustic guitar here.

The second track, “Cylinders,” is a hazy, shimmering slab of noise-pop. “There is blue sky above the clouds all the time,” Moondra croons over a feedback-washed guitar figure and loping bass line. Remember that the next rainy June day.

The aforementioned “Shores” is July personified, with its languid melody and a chorus (“I’m just hangin’ around the shipwrecked shores”) so catchy that, like beach sand, it’ll be with you for days.

And you’ll be damned if the next song isn’t just as good. “Blue Toyota” has a killer bass-and-drum bed begging to be sampled, alternately soaring and scraping electric guitar, and a section during which Jackson, who produced and recorded the album, overlays about 30 seconds of barely discernable, apparently random conversation.

It works. Damn.

“Got to Find the Time” is a lazy pop gem made all the more lustrous by Tyler Card’s tenor sax, which also graces the end of “Shores” and the album’s mysterious closer, “Moths More Than One.” “Girl One” puts the same elements that make “Blue Toyota” a great song to a slower tempo. “There’s a girl who loves me but she’s far away,” Moondra sings, while Beling sprinkles piano notes around and every lonely guy in earshot sighs.

There’s plenty of diversity among the 13 songs. “Bones” has an indie-campfire-song feel not unlike the vibe put out by the South Portland supergroup Fire on Fire. “Hall of Records” is a brief psych-folk detour that turns poppy but never really pops. The mostly instrumental title track, full of African percussion and wafts of dreamy aaahhhs, functions as a pleasant sonic palette-cleanser.

Jackson, who reviewed several albums for The Bollard during his internship, deserves some critical shit himself for sounding like he’s singing on AM radio throughout Night Crawling. He should have more confidence in his voice, let us hear it un-effected a few times.

And some lyrics make you suspect Foam Castles is cribbing from one of Stephen Malkmus’ Mad Lib pads. Like this passage from “Got to Find the Time”: “You were thinkin’ ’bout your catacombs / your treasure troves / your drippin’ robes / I know this ‘cause everybody knows / the reason for the automatic weapons in the bar.” Fa?

But that’s inside baseball. Night Crawling is a stellar album. Bring it to the beach, play it at the barbeque after the joints come out, listen to it on your iPod while you skateboard down Spring Street after midnight.

Hell, it’s free.

So thanks for this too, Tyler, and best of luck in L.A. Don’t let Foam Castles wash into the Pacific.

—Chris Busby

Foam Castles may or may not get a live show together later this month. Check this site for updates. - The Bollard