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There’s an even better album in here somewhere.

Excessive comparisons are the scourge of music reviews. Critics can’t seem to describe an artist except in terms of at least two other artists [ed: hell - guilty], and the dense web of references that results can be frustratingly arcane. But sometimes there’s a reason for the prevalence of footnotes. Some artists churn out work that is itself a matrix of influences - admirable music, to be sure, but also derivative music. The Acorn’s second full-length album, Hope Glory Mountain is a brilliant, but inescapably offshoot, album. It chooses its parts well, mixes them glowingly, but doesn’t create anything particularly new in the process. So if the vocals of Rolf Klaussner remind you of Sufjan Stevens or Thom Yorke, then you’re not alone.

But even so, The Acorns synthesize their influences remarkably well. Case in point: Klaussner infuses tracks like ‘Flood Pt. 1′ and ‘Crooked Legs’ with the flavors of Honduran Garifuna music, to great upshot. The earthy instrumentation and wide-open mixing provide a huge canvas upon which Klaussner smears vignettes from the life of his mother, Gloria Esperanza Montoya (a rough translation of whose name provides the title of the album). In the wash of driving rhythms and chant aesthetics, Klaussner’s emotional ties with the subject matter often blossom into compelling, abstract aural landscapes. When this works, it’s a thing of beauty. With such quality elements, and so loving a technique, many will find that the band’s faint lack of a distinctive voice is nothing more than a nitpick.

Unfortunately, not every track contains these revelatory experiences. ‘Oh Napoleon’ introduces a remarkably lovely melody, and some ghostly steel ambiance to go with it, but takes both of them nowhere in particular. ‘Antenna’ ambles among many pleasant but unremarkable pop conventions. The Acorn is at their best when they’re rollicking through a multi-cultural collision of free-floating sounds; when stripped down to their essentials, to the things that make them unique, they leave something to be desired. If Klaussner can just find his voice, then this will be a band to be reckoned with.

Drew Messinger-Michaels