American Princes
"Little Spaces"

I'm not quite sure if the entire album is about claustrophobia, but I do know that any fear of little spaces I may once have held has now been assuaged. Contained within their stellar second album, the American Princes have forged a sharper soundimage through stronger musicianship and more concentrated songwriting. They've taken off from where they left their first album We Are the People, plowing steamfaced ahead. Working again with mixmaster Marcus Lowe, they've created something great, even the while struggling with a new understanding of it. The journey tackles death, boredom, and sex with a stained virility--remaining stoically wedged betwixt sky and cement.

Yet the sound is global. With the exception of 'Providence, RI,' any of the songs could take place in any town in America. The boys have had their share of urban intimacies. Six bits of the Princes hail from Little Rock-- a scene they've conquered quite naturally. Rhythm guitarist/singer David Slade and (recently departed) bassist/singer John Beachboard formed the band in Brooklyn a couple of years ago and decided to put together a raw but layered rock band. They imported local Brooklyn badass Matt Quin on drums to fill it out. But it wasn't until they transplanted back to Little Rock that they reconvened with friend and lead guitarist/keyboardist/singer Collins Kilgore to add the final touches. I've had the royaluxury of watching the Princes' songs develop from show to album. What didn't fit live, they laid down to digital--breaking out the acoustic for about a quarter of the time. Still, their live show remains a force to be reckoned, if heard. Ryan Universe joins on bass, and the boys' between-song banter is always a treat: Slade's recent valediction of the encore as their "hidden track" was clever at best, until at home, the CD's ending rendered it brilliant.

In fact, brilliance seems to abound on little spaces. A poet-songwriter could do well to be heard and understood by including a lyric sheet to his work. As such, one can glean the genius of Slade with the turn of a phrase: "I wrote this song / but it's gone in a second and it's worthless, so" from the poignant Shins-esque 'In the Dark,' to the cynicalanthemic, Pixies-like boast "out is in / out is in," from '100 Eyes.' The lyrics dig deep, and the accompanying album art adds an element of embryonic encapsulement that fits the albums' theme.

Sometimes it takes standing in the corner to force you to think about your misdeeds--sometimes these little spaces allow you to put it all in perspective. They push you to do better. Sure there are a million bands these days, a million scenes out there, but the American Princes want to be good; they know these scenes. And I think they're beginning to outgrow their own little spaces.