Devendra Banhart : What Will We Be :: Review
Devendra Banhart’s chameleon-like folk had an overhaul on “What Will We Be” his major label debut for Warner Brothers. Gone are the bar room boogie and the Topanga Canyon excess of “Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon,” with this album relying more on the minimal folk rock that Banhart became known for. While this album may seem like a throwback to simpler times, there are quite a few references to the Los Angeles scene that Banhart has recently become enamored. On “What Will We Be,” Devendra Banhart refuses to confine himself within genre limitations and seeks to expand his sonic opportunities on several tracks, most notably on “16th and Valencia,” a pallid piece of over polished pop that falls flat.
The Tropicalia infused mid tempo rocker, “Can’t Help” opens the album with its warm and sunny chords and is reminiscent of a south of the border fiesta full of warm friends welcoming you back. “Angelika” sounds like Donovan Leitch if he had been marooned in Brazil for 10 years. “Baby” finds Banhart back on his footing with a staccato funk beat wondering what direction he should pursue next. The midsection of the album is when it seems to shine in a coupling of ballads, “First Song For B” and “Last Song For B,” which demonstrate that there’s more to this Devendra cat than previous thought. “First Song For B” is an erstwhile piano ballad that builds to the lyrical crescendo of Devendra intoning, “Please Destroy Me, Please Destroy Me.” “Last Song For B” is the flipside to that coin, this time Devendra favors an acoustic guitar replacing the piano. Lyrically, “Last Song For B” focuses Devendra plaintively requesting that he wants life “Wanting to grow, wanting to grow.” Heavy stuff indeed.
On “Chin Chin & Muck Muck” Banhart breaks out the soft shoe pitter-patter which calls to mind “Little Boys” from “Cripple Crow.” As mentioned earlier there is an L.A. vibe that creeps onto this latest outing. On “Rats,” a smoky riff-rocker, Banhart finds his inner Jim Morrison and lets his freak flag fly. The spectral “Maria Leonza” follows as a tribute to the widespread indigenous “Santeria-like” religion which originated in Venezuela. The ethereal folk of “Williamdzi” and “Brindo” help close the album leaving it cloaked in mystery as Banhart offers no clues as to what direction he’ll take next. As usual, we can only follow.
Rating: 
