The Treats Sir Unicorn

The Treats, with fundamentally good and experimental songs, are virtually begging for me to make the obvious pun. To their testament, it's taking all of my willpower not to say that their album was “a treat."

Damn, I did it, didn't I?

Regardless of the embarrassing problems I seem to have with their name, The Treats' Sir Unicorn is a surprisingly good find. You'll have to browse through some slightly awkward choices inevitable to a new band’s developing sound (The Brief Ballad of the So-So Kid could go either way for you, depending on whether you enjoy vocals vaguely reminiscent of…trumpets?) but, just as hunting through racks at Winners will eventually get you a good find, you're bound to come across something you like. Admittedly, you're not going to unearth anything too Earth-shattering, nothing that would prompt the listener to dart out their door, doing one-sixty on the freeway without a car en route to their nearest record store in an adrenaline fueled impulse to find The Treats complete discography, but… who goes to the record store anymore, anyways?

To describe Sir Unicorn’s distinct sound is remarkably difficult, and not for the given fact that to describe any sound is remarkably difficult. The style, intonation, attack, and even genre fluctuate from song to song with the continuity of an eighth grader’s film project, so much so that it would be quite easy to convince someone that the songs To Fear and Sir Unicorn were, in fact, written by different artists. Perhaps mixed up at the hospital? Like the movie Changeling, except without all the intrigue and chicken coops.

If pressed to make a definitive choice, though, psychedelic alternative bluegrass pops up quite naturally, with the first two modifiers in a state of constant flux. At times the songs are all but completely folksy, while at others the biting attitude of rock and catchiness of pop seem to be turned up to the max. Genre purists beware, but all else may be kept interested for their easy ability to wander devoid of boundaries or bonds, if not somewhat eclectically so. Andy Isham, the lead vocalist, ties all together with a semi-haunting voice, one that retains a quality surprisingly similar to that of Jeremy Irons, especially so in the wonderfully macabre Mistake. This substantially haunting song makes the whole album worthwhile through Greek mythology allusions galore and that Jeremy Irons-esque, sticky tonality. Lion King with distortion.

Just kidding, you can’t beat Lion King.

In all seriousness, The Treats are getting off to a great start, as patronizing as that sounds. The talent is there, and the insight, the only thing left is the smoothing effects of time to reach that “imperial phase” Neil Tennant’s got everyone trying to reach. Keep on keepin’ on, Treats, 7/10 (I’m still trying to work out the finer details of the rating system, so judge me not by past-rating-discrepancy).