Written by: Eric Thompson

So first thing’s first. Horse Thief’s Fear in Bliss is good. The song writing and melodies make for plenty of pretty moments, and the big production always keeps these songs interesting. But perhaps therein lies the album’s problem, its crutch. With every track, I can’t escape the feeling that these songs needed a little more time in the oven. The outsides could be more crisp, the insides less doughy. Viewed in this light, the great production seems like someone heaping gobs of icing on some cupcakes that didn’t quite work out. The music here, to switch metaphors, is searching for another gear that it never quite finds.

It is apparent from the very beginning of Fear in Bliss. The first track on the record, “Intro,” is a very There Will Be Blood-esque building of somewhat dissonant elements. But it only lasts thirty seconds. The build is entirely too fast and the climax, when a sort of harmony is achieved, happens right as the track cuts off. And it’s exactly the sort of intro this album would seem to want. Things just never quite get where they need to go. This leads into one of the stronger songs on Fear in Bliss, “I Don’t Mind,” a big, sprawling song held together by Cameron Neal’s vocals. “Outside the building / I hear the screaming children / Crying to their fathers / About this fire in their heads.” The song made me think (and not for the last time) that I would really like to compare this record to Horse Thief’s live shows. I have the feeling that the concert is something I would be heavily into, even though Fear in Bliss always leaves me wanting. The big sound is the album’s default mode, but one of the strongest tracks is the entirely stripped down “Already Dead.” It begins with some ambient noise, just wind and birds. From there it’s just acoustic guitar and vocals, with that field recording in the background. It’s subtle and effective. And it makes you wonder about most of the other production decisions that got made. As I said, there are some really gorgeous moments here, as on “Let It Go.” In the last couple minutes, the song slips into a beautiful instrumental languor full of deep sea atmospherics. It’s captivating. But somewhat maddening too to know what these guys are capable of.

I’ve listened to “Let It Go” more than a few times now, and it’s still enchanting in a way that most of the rest of Fear in Bliss just doesn’t quite achieve. The record deserves a listen. I just don’t know how many.