Statistics Leave Your Name Release Date : January 20, 2004 Label: Jade Tree Rating: Andy doesn't dig rating stuff. It's been a long time, man. A long time. A long time, that is, when you have no clue what you're looking for. I'd gotten wind of this Statistics project I-don't-even-know-when, with a little tune called "Another Day." The email the song was linked into included instructions to contact Jade Tree (who'd sent the mailout) for press inquiries. Immediately after checking out the tune, I raced back to my inbox to do just that, but it was to no avail. For some reason, I never heard back from them. I was still requesting stuff for the last magazine that I worked for though - that much I do recall - so this was over twelve months past, because we started working on this here rag about a year ago. So I went on my ignorant way, content for the time being with that one tune and much speculation about whether the song's glory could possibly hold up through a full album (that song's actually part of a self-titled EP, but that's irrelevant at this point). Anyways, I guess new things just came to the forefront after that, and while I revisited the song from time to time, it wasn't until only about this past May that I finally got what I asked for (in a roundabout way). The label pushed another band at me, and seeing their roster at the bottom of their emails, memories of "Another Day" were jolted back to the front of my brain. So I asked. And I received. And now I have this newer-ish full-length album from Statistics that kinda makes me feel like I'm falling through an endless bank of clouds without having any fear of ever hitting bottom. Occasionally, there's a lighting bolt or two in those clouds, but they aren't threatening - just powerful and fascinating. Sometimes there are birds wheeling freely and brilliantly overhead. Sometimes there's warm, filtered rays of sunlight melting all over my body. No matter what, I feel content and exhilarated, and wish the freefall would last more than half an hour. But apparently, that's the point. Denver Dalley, the wunderkind behind this gem, has stated that he wants to keep things fresh and brief, not overdo it. I wanted to quote him directly, but I'll be darned if I can find the article again in this mess of an internet (*note, June 5* - found it! Dalley's quote is regarding his 2003 EP, and goes like this : "I like to keep songs short too. I kind of have an attention problem when it comes to songs and shows. Keep it short and sweet and keep people interested." - Source : www.30music.com). But he does succeed in that; making an album short + sweet and leaving me absolutely pining for more. So what does it all sound like, you ask? Every review of this thing seems to pull out the same band comparisons and the same lyrics, so I'll attempt to spare you the redundancy. What I do hear at points is a bit of a Failure/Ken Andrews/ON/Year of the Rabbit vibe threaded through, mostly in the way guitars are played when they strike up hard, and with the electro-elements. And who influenced Failure (etc)? Probably all the same bands that Statistics gets compared to anyways, so I'm still not being terribly original with this review so far. I also hear moments that bear resemblance to bands like the Album Leaf (instrumentals, anyone?) and Red Stars Theory. By God, there's even a piece of a guitar riff in "Mr. Nathan" that reminds me of something off the movie Top Gun's "Anthem". Hell, I could pick this record to pieces and dredge up some song that every ten-second chunk of Leave Your Name sounds like. And then everything would be fractured and you wouldn't be sure if this is just the right album for you. I can tell you one thing now - it is the album for you. Just about everyone is aware that synths are back in vogue these days among the indie set, and here, the use of such technology, new and old, is refreshing. We are not dealing with a purring church organ or a bloopy noisemaker. Here, they set the music apart from the field. All the gizmos involved are actually used as instruments or valid effects on other instruments (voice included). Speaking of voices, Dalley carries a gentle, understated quality in his. Serene, thoughtful, honest, serious, relaxed. Part of me really wants to hear him just lose it at some point and scream … just once, come on! Just to see if he can do it (haha). No, that probably wouldn't fit. But I'd still like to hear it. The closest we get is on the opener, "Sing A Song," which definitely has the noisiest, grittiest feel of the whole disc. In the chorus, Dalley sings loudly, but it still feels verging on restraint. Oh, how I'd love to hear him lose it. The tunes slingshot back and forth between super-mellow and more uptempo rockers. Like one moment, there will be a sense of apprehension, confusion, tension wrapped up in a wall of guitars and buzzing sound (see lightning bolts), and then…. Quiet, soaring, open, blue and beautiful (see melting sunlight). I also have pretty schizophrenic music tastes, so I can appreciate what Dalley's trying to do here. Sometimes I'll cycle through five or six CDs on an hour-long bus trip, just to listen to one or two songs on each. So there you have it! A disc packed with musical treasures in its all-too-brief span. I keep looking up behind me during the collection-ending "Circular Memories," because there's these barely-there clanging cutlery noises that I never noticed til just now when I actually began listening to the CD on good headphones. The strange clarity makes it seem as though the sound is coming from directly behind me instead of through either side of my head, and I feel like someone's hanging out and doing the dishes in the room. Like, have you ever listened to a record and sworn you could hear your mom calling your name, but it was really just some strange peripheral noise in the music? I'm getting off-track. This disc is somehow comforting, it's interesting, it's a pleasing listen. Goes good with a strong Long Island iced tea and a loved one (if you have one... otherwise your own solitary introspectiveness will be fine company) on a sunsetty patch of grass. You can tell it was created for the art of it all, not the mainstream/masses/rock/whatever. With a project so new, I can't wait to hear more in the future - and take another fall through those dreamy clouds. Lyric of choice : Well sheesh, half the album is instrumental… Perhaps Sleep has poisoned me with drunken insecurities / I've forgotten why I've called you, off "2 A.M." Yeah, I know what that's all about, except I just wouldn't have the balls to call in the first place (even when smashed. Then I'd just weep or do something stupid). Or maybe In a nightclub / in some unfamiliar town / show is sold out / yet he somehow feels alone, off "The Grass Is Always Greener." That just sounds so… sad. If we're giving points just to execution, i swear / lifetimes are not long enough / there there, off "Reminisce" just flows perfectly. Song of choice : Oh man… Disc opening track, "Sing A Song," is so so solid, powerful, and contains just about every aspect of the entire album. Soft opening, twisted electronics, echoey vocals, charged-up guitars… that's my pick, but it's a tough call. -Andy Scheffler Elsewhere Statistics website Published : June 4, 2004.