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It is a long, long way from here to Norfolk, my friends. A very long way. But the endless stretches of highway were certainly not enough to keep me from seeing the band that made the best record of last year (in my humble opinion), so drive and drive and drive I did. And I tell you what. It was so worth it, I'd do it all again tomorrow. In a heartbeat. Fanfarlo is worth any distance. MINI RECAP: Fanfarlo = splendiforous! Overall score: A.The crowd was, shall we say, a bit sparse (though seeing as The Norva is pretty cavernous, the crowd size just might have seemed a bit smaller than it was in actuality). Located in what appears more of a Hollywood set than an actual city, The Norva is still a pretty good venue. I arrived just in time to assume a good observing position and catch my breath before the band strolled onstage. Decked out in lovely, springy pastel button downs (on the menfolk), the band gets points for choosing a look and going all the way with it. Though I'm just not sure about Simon's day-glo socks and the tucking therein of his pants into said socks. The music, however, was far less questionable.Opening with "Drowning Men," the sound immediately came across as vibrant and crisp. Some bands are just impeccable live, Fanfarlo being one of this type. Simon Balthazar's soaring vocals play so nicely with the large sound created by the rest of the band, through trumpeting and keyboards and violins...it's such a beautiful noise. The driving "I'm a Pilot" was up next, a glorious wash of enchantment. Lone lady of Fanfarlo, Cathy, proclaimed that The Norva was a lot like America, "vast" and with "lots of empty space," as she enouraged "population density" towards the front of the room. "Finish Line" followed this request, and yet again was sublime. I'm sure by this point I was grinning like an idiot. But what else do you do when your favorite album of an entire year is done so perfectly right in front of your eyes? A rousing rendition of "Harold T. Wilkins, or How to Wait for a Very Long Time" was next up. As I looked around The Norva, I saw reflections of what was probably on my face - tons and tons of awe-struck, mesmerized faces (and some crazy dancers). Also finding their way into the incomprably transcendent set: "The Walls Are Coming Down," "Fire Escape," an especially gorgeous version of "Comets," and a sped-up, very jaunty take on "Luna." After a very, very brief time away from the stage, the band was urged back to the stage by the very vocal little crowd, for what Simon called "one more before bedtime." That one more was a stunning rendition of "Ghosts," and it (and the entire set) had me leaving Norfolk feeling as happy as the cat that got that darn canary. Fanfarlo live was even better than I had expected (and believe me, my expectations weren't exactly low). The band was affable and personable and charming, and they played with a natural grace and elegance that few bands are lucky enough to possess. It was a night of heavenly music, and I am so very glad to have been there. And should you happen to see them live, I recommend picking up one of their delightful little Fanfarlo sweatshirts, done up in a sort of retro ski sweater style. Other bands couldn't pull that kind of merch off, you know. mp3: Comets (Fanfarlo from Reservoir)
I’m finding it hard to believe that it’s almost time once again for the annual industry hootenanny known as SXSW. In a few short days, Austin will be taken over and all hell will break loose (and dammit I wish I was gonna be there). To celebrate the impending week of absolute havoc, Austin-style, we’ve thrown down the interview gauntlet to see what some of our favorite bands are going to be getting up to whilst gettin down in the wilds of Texas.
Our next guest really doesn’t need an introduction. My love for his band is pretty well documented. After all, if you’ve been paying attention lately, you’ll quite possibly have noticed that Fanfarlo’s Reservoir was my runaway number 1 album of last year. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and if you don’t own it yet shame on you. The cornerstone of the Fanfarlo sound is lead singer Simon Balthazar’s haunting voice, warm and lovely and all-too entrancing. His honeyed tones can make anything sound bewitching. Simon was kind enough to break from his festival planning to answer my questions, answers to which are below. If you happen to be in Austin, you just might run into him ‘round the campfire. If not, just make sure you a) go see them live if you can, and b) buy Reservoir.
Les Enfants Terribles: How are you getting to SXSW: plane, train, or automobile?
Simon Balthazar: Boat, hopefully.
LET: Inevitably, you will forget to pack:
SB: Swim shorts, and end up swimming in my underpants.
LET: How many showcases/parties will you be playing?
SB: About 5 or 6 I think... so looking like a relatively chilled out one... although I'm sure we'll end up fitting in as much as we can. We are going to shoot a short film while we're there as well.
LET: Band you're most looking forward to seeing at the festival?
SB: Haven't actually trawled through the schedule yet, but Local Natives who we've bumped into a couple of times and whose stuff we're into. Also a friend's new band Summer Camp.
LET: What's the first thing you plan on doing upon arrival in Austin?
SB: Drink a soy latte and bask in the sunshine.
LET: What was the first festival you ever attended, either as a musician or member of the general public?
SB: Roskilde 2000, which was the year 9 people died at the Pearl Jam show. As a whole it was also rainy and miserable. Put me off festivals for a little while.
LET: Favorite thing about festivals?
SB: Apart from the music? Campfires perhaps, or tea-and-cake tents.
For some reason, I found this the hardest record to write about, despite the depths of my love for it. Go figure. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the first time through Fanfarlo’s glorious Reservoir I was literally rendered speechless. And I still am, somewhat. But I’ll see what I can do to try to convince you of the merits of this particular album numero uno.
Sometimes, very rarely, I happen upon a record that is so beautiful that it just about breaks my heart. It takes me places most records can’t even dream of, makes my heart swell to the point of bursting, and in some instances may just cause some swooning. For my money, the most painfully exquisite album of the year was Reservoir, and it stands alone at the top of this countdown, looking down from the heights of near-perfection. From the first note to the last, Reservoir had me in total aural bliss, enraptured by the beauty that was gracing my eardrums. It’s very high praise, I know, and yet totally deserved.
There’s a balance on Reservoir that makes it so appealing, an equal amount of vulnerable fragility and confident strength. Fanfarlo plays both sides perfectly, both on the record as a whole and even in individual songs. In a way, Fanfarlo makes music in the vein of countrymen Doves and Editors (and at times with shades of those darling Canadians of the Arcade Fire), though their songs have a more natural, slightly less epic feel to them. They are no less stately, no less powerful, but are done on a (slightly) smaller sonic scale. There’s something rather intimate about this collection of songs on Reservoir, at times it almost feels as if the songs are a tender secret being told to you in the strictest of confidence. On the surface, Reservoir is an album full of kid-glove delicate songs, but of course all is not quite as it seems. There’s more than meets the ear on this record. But even in a song like “Comets,” where the lyrical content might remind you of one of the horrifying scenes out of “Fahrenheit 451” (“Kick in the doors/and burn the books/try to forget”), the music is splendidly sweeping, often enhanced with plucky brass and haunting strings.
Crafting songs like these is truly an art. It might sound easy, based on how sublime an album this is, but Fanfarlo is to be commended. Reservoir is a seriously statuesque record, and Fanfarlo has definitely earned its place as number 1.
It is a long, long way from here to Norfolk, my friends. A very long way. But the endless stretches of highway were certainly not enough to keep me from seeing the band that made the best record of last year (in my humble opinion), so drive and drive and drive I did. And I tell you what. It was so worth it, I'd do it all again tomorrow. In a heartbeat. Fanfarlo is worth any distance. 
