Ryan Lindsey – White Paper Beds

Ryan Lindsey is probably better known for his work as a member of Starlight Mints and Cheyenne than for his solo work. And as is the burden for any band member with side project ambitions, one would expect that any solo endeavor set his individual talents apart from past collaborative efforts. In this sense, White Paper Beds is a resounding success. Although it is not a perfect album, it establishes Lindsey as a talented songwriter in his own right, with a knack for pop melodies and arrangement.

Lindsey’s songcraft can be traced with a pretty clear line back to ‘60s pop like Revolver-era Beatles, borrowing rhythmic simplicity with a focus of melody and harmony, and the voice as the real center and source of it all. But hey, just about anyone who’s written a song since 1965 has been influenced in some way by The Beatles, so clearly Lindsey has got to set himself apart from the millions of other aspiring (and often cruddy) Lennon/McCartneys. But fortunately, Lindsey is able to synthesize the timeless aspects of ‘60s pop without forgetting that there’s been forty years of music history between then and now. We will always be drawn to catchy melodies and well-constructed harmonies, and Lindsey has a pretty darn good command of both.

The focus of White Paper Beds is on Lindsey’s voice. He has the kind of wispy, midrange vocal that may not be technically virtuosic or capable of Freddy Mercury histrionics. Think less morose Elliot Smith or Jon Brion. But what matters is that Lindsey knows his own strengths and constructs his songs and melodies to best suit them. Right at the opening of the album, on “Future Unemployment,” you can tell that he’s reaching toward the top of his range, but he charms nonetheless. And on “My Place in the Hills,” his two part harmonies and slightly more ornate ahh-ahhhs compliment one another perfectly. Unfortunately, despite the general pleasantness of his voice, Lindsey’s lyrics tend toward the unremarkable or the overly precious, even for modern twee-ish pop. An example from “Open Late;” “The sign says open late/ Will you be open too?”

But the album has enough going for it to excuse a few eye-rollers in the lyric department. Despite the focus on Lindsey’s voice, the instrumental arrangements don’t seem to suffer at all. Allen Vest of the Starlight Mints contributes some staccato cello to “Put Your Trust in Ross” and “My Place in the Hills,” which to my mind gives the song that subtle extra something which makes it the standout track on the album. Lindsey sticks to pretty standard pop instrumentation (acoustic guitar, piano, organ, cello, etc.) for most of the songs, with a couple of electronic beats thrown in for good measure. It may not be overly adventurous, but Lindsey seems to be a man who prefers to stick to his strengths rather than taking the experimental kitchen sink approach. He also is a surprisingly dexterous guitarist. Check “My Place in the Hills,” “A Weekend With You,” or “Put Your Trust in Ross” for evidence that he’s not just some G-C-D strumming hack.

In a general sense, most of the songs on White Paper Beds vacillates between hopeful/sunshiny pop and a little melancholy to keep things interesting. But even in the sunnier bits, there is often a depressive undercurrent. On “My Place in the Hills,” he sings “It’s making me happy/ It’s springtime all year,” but the melody he sings says something a little different. It lends an interesting ambiguity that the album wisely keeps in its bag of tricks. So while Ryan Lindsey isn’t exactly breaking new ground here, what he decides to do he does damn well. In a music scene oversaturated with people who probably shouldn’t have taken time off from their jobs in data entry to record an album, it’s more than refreshing to hear a solid album from someone who really knows what he’s doing.

Tagged as: Oklahoma, Pop

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