Pitchfork

In the center of a black hole, called the singularity, the gravitational force is so great that the escape velocity of any object or radiation exceeds the speed of light, thus making escape from the hole's gravitational pull impossible under the laws of space-time as we currently understand them. A black hole isn't literally a hole so far as we know, but it comes close, given that it has no volume despite its infinite density-- we can't even know what a singularity looks like because it's obscured by something called the event horizon, beyond which all light is trapped.

Though it can be explained by pages' worth of dry theory and alien-looking math equations, it's difficult to deny the inherent romance of the concept. Once you've passed beyond the event horizon, your only hope is that you're crushed into oblivion quickly enough that you feel nothing-- that light can't even escape its clutches is especially chilling and fascinating. Songwriters being a generally romantic lot, it's surprising that the fertile symbolic ground of these cosmic phenomena hasn't been more thoroughly plowed-- most songwriters just focus on the stuff you can actually see, like the moon and the stars. But Paul Schneider, your friendly guitar-toting servant (and not the guy from Múm), has apparently noticed this oversight, and attempts to remedy it on the opening track of his debut album.

"Event Horizon (Pulls a Body)" is a lushly melodic song that nicely captures the essence of attraction amidst discord in a relationship-- even as his paramour does all she can to degrade him and crush his spirit, he's slipped past her event horizon, and now he's drawn to her despite himself. Schneider does an impressive job of keeping a potentially hazardous metaphor under control while his acoustic guitar bubbles over spare drum machines, his tenor's peculiar blend of gravel and nasal resonance articulating a deeply ingratiating melody.

Elsewhere, Schneider's studied melodicism is at its best on uptempo songs like "Don't Walk Around", its bounding, unison-harmony hook met by a slightly distorted guitar riff placed low in the mix. Producer Dave Snyder keeps the bass sound loose and sharp, letting the drums and guitar do most of the rhythmic heavy lifting. "Echo of Your Heart", however, is the undeniable highlight, with its brisk rhythms sweeping along Schneider's fluid melody. Here, guest guitarist Oscar Rodriguez leads the band into a bloodrush coda that finally pulls back for a slowly churning, chiming outro.

Rodriguez also breaks open the midsection of the country-ish "Tourniquet" with a positively liquid solo, and provides the menacing bassline for "Waiting", the album's darkest, loosest song. Schneider handles the lead guitar himself on "Waiting", with a choice outburst near the three-minute mark. His leads on "Man" enter more Stephen Stills-ish territory, ringing in the lower registers, with the top EQ'd off for a strange, mellowing effect.

Escape Velocity is an accomplished debut for a promising young songwriter who thankfully seems as interested in the musical content of his songs as the lyrical. Fans of recent offerings by (to pigeonhole) neo-folkies like Tom McRae will definitely find much to like here, though the appeal certainly doesn't stop there: Escape Velocity is also a solid indie rock record, announcing the arrival of a songwriter to look out for.