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(Clicka qua per la versione Italiana)
Formed in 1991 by Sean O'Hagan, a former member of
Microdisney
(same group that fathered the Fatima Mansions of Cathal Coughlan),
but, more importantly, string and horn arranger for
Stereolab, the High Llamas
were born as a project of emulation and tribute of the late
Beach Boys sound.
The band was named after O'Hagan's solo album,
High Llamas (Demon, 1990),
and debuted with the EP Apricots (Plastic, 1991), later incorporated
into the album Santa Barbara (Vogue, 1992).
Santa Barbara (Vogue, 1992) is derivative for the sake of being derivative.
Put Yourself Down, a compromise between R.E.M.-ish folk-rock and Mersey sound, establishes the coordinates of their future,
but the ruling format here is the slow, mellow melodic dance-pop of
Birdies Sing and Market Traders,.
Among the awkward orchestral arrangement of Travel and the outdated
post-psychedelic vocals of Holland, one can detect countless nods to
the past (the piano riff of Banking on Karma is very similar to the riff of Rolling Stones' Brown Sugar).
Like with most pop albums that recycle variations on the same old melodies,
one loses concentration after the third track.
(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)
The songs on Gideon Gaye (Alpaca, 1995), the album that establishes them, are virtually indistinguishable from one another, all built on gentle harmonies and sophisticated keyboard arrangements (by Marcus Holdaway), a combination that recalls the late Beach Boys. OHagan leans toward purely instrumental scores, in the vein of another unspoken idol, Burt Bacharach. The project is fetishistic, coldly calculated, much technical and little artistic.
Whether deliberately or not (probably not), the sound ends up sounding somewhat parodic, more reminiscent of Van Dyke Parks than Brian Wilson (Dutchman, Checking In Checking Out, The Goat Looks On). The 14-minute Track Goes By hints at the leaders true personality: OHagan is certainly a recording studio genius, but he has no compositional gift (and is a mediocre singer). The High Llamas are explicitly inspired by the Beach Boys, whereas, for example, His Name Is Alive reinvents their art.
(Original English text by Piero Scaruffi)
Sean O'Hagan perfected his arranger's skills on
the ambitious and monumental Hawaii (Alpaca, 1996),
29 tracks for a grand total of 77 minutes (but only half are actual songs,
the others being brief interludes).
His unquestionable specialty is old-fashioned instrumental easy-listening muzak,
as implemented in
Sparkle Up, a relaxing melody endlessly repeated in long parade of
instruments, including pastoral banjo, tv-theme violins, romantic trumpet and
lounge-y xylophone,
in the brief Fully Time, a veritable concentrate of orchestrale stereotypes,
and in Doo-Wop Property, the boldest piece on the album, replete with
electronic noise and noir-jazzy horns.
The album is also the triumph of the Burt Bacharach-ian ballad, from Literature Is Fluff to Cuckoo's Out,
all of them wrapped up in painstakingly reconstructed period arrangements.
The similarities with the last Beach Boys
(Nomads,
Campers in Control)
albums and the quotations from the Beatles
(Dressing up the Old Dakota,
Hawaiian Smile)
can occasionally be embarrassing,
but then it's part of the game.
He rarely makes fun of what he steals. The fanfare of Pilgrims is as
close as he gets to a parody.
Whether aping the silliness of Broadway tunes or reenacting the thrill of the
"hit parade", O'Hagan neutralizes whatever humour and nostalgy one is expected
to expect. By focusing so much on a luxuriant production, he transforms what
used to be the mere routine of studio orchestras into mathematical science.
If this wizard of the postmodernist pop song has a soul, it comes out only in
the brief, austere, surreal interludes.
The second CD of Hawaii contains six rarities.
(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)
Cold And Bouncy (V2, 1998), half sung and half purely instrumental, abandons the symphonic style of the previous album in favor of a smoother approach. The arrangements remain meticulous. The Sun Beats Down is a mishmash of musical-theater airs for piano and violins (with a funky cadence). Exemplary is the highly refined orchestration of the choral march Tilting Windmills, from vibraphone to trombones.
Once again, the instrumental compositions take center stage. At first glance, tracks like HiBall Nova Scotia might seem to fit simply into the cocktail-lounge instrumental revival, the sly and stereotypical Burt Bacharach revival. But OHagan studied the periods culture with obsessive dedication, from 1960s film soundtracks (Glide Time, Over The River) to 1950s Caribbean orchestras (Three Point Scrabble, Homespin Rerun).
As always, in this vast ocean of songs, the songs themselves are missing. OHagan limits himself to recycling stereotypes (and melodies heard a thousand times before). There is not a line of genuine emotion on the entire album, and over time, one forgets to listen to it. But, ultimately, that has always been the strength of background music: it is not meant to be truly listened to.
Lollo Rosso (V2, 1998) is the remix album.
OHagan is also active in Turn On with Tim Gane of Stereolab. The album Turn On (Duophonic, 1997) is simply a collection of lounge-style electronic music experiments.
(Original English text by Piero Scaruffi)
Snowbug (V2, 1999) is High Llama's "lightest" record, a record that
hardly plays music. It plays stereotypes of (pop) music.
Nostalgia prevails over art.
Only occasionally inspired
(Cookie Bay,
Go To Montecito,
Cotton To The Bell,
Green Coaster),
the composer is more interested in paying tribute to his masters than in
building on their lessons.
A latin feel (Hoops Hooley, Daltons Star) is the only
significant news.
On Buzzle Bee (Duophonic, 2000)
O'Hagan, leveraging on his work with Stereolab, modernized the band's sound
with more instrumental tracks.
The sound is often intriguing (particularly the instrumental
Pat Mingus and Tambourine Day),
but the refrains are still childish and repetitive.
The orchestral (and mostly drum-less) pop of Beet Maize & Corn (Drag City, 2003)
constitutes the terminal point of a career that has basically been a constant
evolution from Brian Wilson towards Burt Bacharach, with elements of both
impregnating O'Hagan's sterile melodies. Thus, the album's focus is on an
old-fashioned, nostalgic and good-mannered world, well represented by
Barny Mix, Leaf and Lime, Rotary Hop.
The sound verge towards chamber music (High on the Chalk, The Holly Hills) and neoclassical instrumentals (Alexandra Line).
The most sublime moments are pastoral (The Click and the Fizz) and stately (The Walworth River). O'Hagan is basically a mediocre composer who
is not capable of a full-fledged melodic fantasia and thus contents himself
with cycles of unassuming lieder.
Retrospective, Rarities, and Instrumentals (V2, 2003) is a double-disc career retrospective.
Sean O'Hagan's relaxing orchestral pop was even more immaculate on
Can Ladders (Drag City, 2007), but still uneventful. As much as he tries
to differentiate the arrangements from song to song, all the songs end up
sounding very similar. The issue remains that the sonic packaging is a way
to hike weak songwriting. At best, he recreates a nostalgic retro feeling
(Winter's Day, Dorothy Ashby). At worst, he is merely dejavu.
The Musical Paintings Volume 1 (Drag City, 2008) was a collaboration
between High Llamas's Sean O'Hagan and Belgian multimedia artist Jean Pierre Muller.
The High Llamas'
Talahomi Way (2011) was more a sonic experience than an artistic
experience, relying on the cute details instead of the fundamental
elements of melody, rhythm and harmony.
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