Skip to main content

225. The Seldon Plan: Lost and Found and Lost (2009)

One of my favorite all-time TV shows is Felicity, which aired on the WB from 1999 to 2002. I think the show captivated me because it represented my college experience. Not that my college life was anything like Felicity's. I didn't send taped diary entries to a friend back home. I didn't spend four years vacillating between two guys (though I would have gone with Noel over Ben). I wasn't a barista at Dean and Deluca, nor did I learn tough lessons about rape, divorce, testicular cancer, and alcoholism. I did, however, cut my hair very short.

Specifics aside, what rang true about the show for me was the earnest nature of the title character and her friends. That was me in college. I was a Romantic. I turned every thought over and over. Every experience seemed deeply important. Weighty philosophical questions and conclusions abounded. I had graduated college by the time the show premiered (actually just that spring), so it was like instant nostalgia for me.

What does all this have to do with The Seldon Plan, a Baltimore band who've recently released their third album? Well, a couple of things.

For one, their lyrics capture that same shoe-gazing tone that Felicity did. While the band members aren't in college, they obviously have a fondness for the earnestness of youth. Consider lines like "French cinema taught me how to love," (from French Cinema), or "we're the hopeful ones who want the springtime back" (from the forlorn Lonely Bridgewater), or "we are young / crossing our legs / looking stern" (from standout Philadelphia and a Moment). Run, Go! recalls a party where people are "having drinks and telling stories." Majestic Mountain explicitly mentions college towns and summers. Lullabyes for Old Hearts captures the impatience of youth. "I can't wait, now!" it exclaims.

The album's opening and closing songs help reinforce the fondness for days past. I'm pretty sure Caldecott is not about the 19th century English illustrator who inspired the annual picture book award (I wish I had a lyric sheet), but when taken in conjuction with Ezra Jack Keats it seems to form a tidy bookend. Keats was a children's author and illustrator who won the Caldecott in 1963 for his book The Snowy Day. The latter, by the way, is the album's best and most audacious song, with prominent "la-la-la-la" background vocals, driving rhythms, and an extended trumpet part.

That leads us to the second reason Lost and Found and Lost makes me think about Felicity. Most of the songs on the album sound like they could have provided the soundtrack for the show, like they could have accompanied the upteenth whispered conversation between Felicity and Ben as they tried to sort out their differences, or a montage of Noel ruefully walking the city streets, consumed by his latest heartbreak.

The band sounds a little bit emo (in the hushed lead vocals, chiming guitars, and aforementioned shoegazing nature of the lyrics) and a little bit indie pop (in the abundance of choral singing, like a slightly less exuberant and esoteric version of the New Pornographers). Vocalist / songwriter Dawn Dineen is mostly responsible for the latter, her harmonies with singer Michael Nestor being a highlight on several tracks, most notably the title track and There Are Undertones Here.

Maybe you've never heard of Felicity, maybe you were one of those who inexplicably stopped watching when she cut her hair, or maybe you actively hated the show. No matter. If you are (or fondly remember being) a person who lived in your own head, with daydreams of romance and fate and deeper meanings, Lost and Found and Lost is an album that will speak to you.

Grade: B
Fave Song: Ezra Jack Keats

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

REO Speedwagon: R.E.O. Speedwagon (1971)

REO Speedwagon got its start in the late 1960s on the campus of the University of Illinois in Champaign/Urbana. The band grew out of a friendship between a students Neal Doughty (piano/keyboard) and Alan Gratzer (drums). Joining up with a couple of other musicians, they took the name R.E.O. Speedwagon. It wasn't long before they started getting gigs at parties and bars, doing covers of the hits of the day. The band cycled through several players in its first three years, with Gratzer and Doughty as the only constants. One-by-one they added the members that would form the first "official" lineup: singer Terry Luttrell in early 1968, bassist Gregg Philbin later that summer, and guitarist Gary Richrath at the end of 1970. Richrath was a native of Peoria, 90 miles northwest of Champaign, and had essentially stalked the band until they let him join. It was a good move, as he not only an accomplished guitarist, but also a songwriter. With Richrath the band ascended to the n...

Stuck, or Obsession Cessastion

You may have noticed that things have slowed down around here. I had the summer off from teaching, and I spent it with my 7 month-old son. I gave myself permission to make this blog less of a priority. Well, "less of a priority" is putting it lightly. Initially, I considered an abrupt retirement. But then I reconsidered. Maybe the proximity to Brett Favre is causing this. If you're a long time reader, this is probably not all that surprising to you. Since 2007, it has become an annual ritual for me to soul-search about my waning interest in music. First I blamed an inability to express myself and a lack of quality music . Then in 2008 I cited new technology and the death of the album . Last year I wrote about how my changing life priorities hindered my ability to seek out new music. I've done a lot of thinking about it this summer and in truth I believe this was all just dancing around the issue, a slow realization of something I didn't want to admit to myse...

Billy Joel: Greatest Hits, Volumes I and II (1985)

As you may know, I'm something of a connoisseur of compilations. I have three guidelines that I like my greatest hits to follow, though I am open to these rules being disregarded in certain cases. It's not an exact science. Billy Joel's 1985 Greatest Hits Volumes I and II (an odd title for a set that was never sold separately) is proof of that.  It mostly follows the rules. The songs are in chronological order. There are no remixes, just a couple of single edits; there are two live songs, but those were actually were the versions that charted. And there are two new songs - we'll get to them eventually - but both ended up in the Top 40, so in retrospect that was a good decision. My mom bought the double LP when it came out and then dubbed it to a tape that lived in her car for at least three years. It and An Innocent Man were part of the soundtrack of the second half of my first decade of life. So I have a hard time criticizing something so ingrained in my consciousne...