Dr. Dog — _Be the Void_ — 4 stars out of 5
The Groove is becoming an increasingly rare art these days; not electronic beats in dance music (that is alive and kicking), but a sense of organic buildup. Taking a rhythm and building it up melodically and naturally is a method requiring patience and a unifying sense of ensemble, a skill that’s increasingly rare but seemingly flourishing in Philadelphia, home of Dr. Dog. Around for nearly a decade, the band has been developing a low-key but impressive resumé, letting the songs speak for themselves.
And boy do they. In an increasingly fractured music landscape, forcing a label upon Dr. Dog would classify the band as “psychedelic,” but this would either imply a hard-hitting guitar edge (a la Cream or Hendrix) or paisley-clad winsomeness (_Pepper_-era Beatles). Dr. Dog is neither. Instead, the group keeps these influences in a decidedly cracked rearview mirror and blends them with modern blues and jam band instrumentation, taking the aforementioned beat and picking it apart adroitly and melodically. But what truly makes the group stand out is its aural aesthetic. It sounds like a record made in 1965 superimposed on a modern indie record. Guitar sounds are rusty and wiry, bass lines are fat and fuzzy and the vocal harmonies soar and meld in a very 20th century tradition that’s both retro and timeless.
Its latest album, _Be the Void_, harnesses this distinct sound with an off-the-cuff charm that’s never edgy but certainly terrific sounding. 2010’s _Shame, Shame_ added some splashes of Philly soul and interesting production effects, but here the group steps back and does what it can do best, ride the rhythm with melodic flair. The tone is set from the opener; “Lonesome” is all guitar with 1920s Mississippi Delta twang and clomping drums, and before you know it, three minutes have passed. It’s impeccable craftsmanship — consistent and rewarding. This instrumental rawness is what propels the rest of _Void_, varied enough in its melodic attack to create a cohesive whole.
This is mostly credited to the terrific musicians involved. “Big Girl” swings though its 5 minutes with muscle and a touch of crunch, never really breaking for a solo, but instead constantly building on the raggedy guitar tone and honky-tonk piano fills. “These Days” has a Scott McMicken circular melodic line that never gets boring because the band is so agile and concise, and drummer Eric Slick gets some bongo and tom-tom time with “Heavy Light,” adding a sweet percussive flair.
The ’60s influences are deployed skillfully and subtly. Never does the group sound like a rip-off. Instead, these nods to past artists add some spice to the arrangements without overpowering them. “Turning the Century” cleverly uses Lemon Piper-style Indian instrumentation as a riff, “Warrior Man” has some appropriately out-of-date keyboard work that would sound at home on an Animals record, and “Do the Trick” uses Phil Spector-signature jingle bells to add rather than distract. “Do the Trick” is actually _Be the Void_’s finest moment and represents everything Dr. Dog does right. The bouncy bass and warm production bolster a tune that could have easily been ham-fisted, but instead sounds inviting and skillful.
Inevitably, this sort of consistent approach results in a listen that is thoroughly enjoyable but never really challenging. The off-the-cuff songwriting here benefits the sound well but never reaches the transcendent levels of the group’s 2010 tunes such as “Shadow People” and “Where’d All the Time Go?” Nevertheless, the inconsistencies of _Shame, Shame_ are much more ironed out, and as an overall listen _Be the Void_ is remarkably cohesive, as their ’60s predecessors would like it.
The group is playing at The Blue Note in March (a concert co-sponsored by MOVE Magazine), and it will be interesting to see how such an organic and unit-based sound will translate on stage. It certainly works on record, with _Be the Void_ being the latest in an exceptional and quickly growing back catalogue. The sound is difficult to define, but Void makes the argument that it really isn’t necessary to do so. As long as the melodies are this strong and craftsmanship this exceptional, the band’s work should speak for itself.
