Fleet Foxes "Fleet Foxes" [2008]

If there's anything that's going to allow David Crosby to outlive Keith Richards, it won't be his various organ transplants -- it'll be campfire beardos like Fleet Foxes who record to infinity endless harmonies and instrumentation what it took 60s lightweights the Byrds and CSN only a few mix-downs to accomplish. At this point I'm not sure what the rest of the 20-teens are going to be like, but I sure hope they smell a lot better than the combo of IPA/hydroponic weed breath, gastro-pub hickory smoke and facial hair mung that guys like Fleet Foxes and Iron & Wine have aurally imbued everyone with (everyone white, that is). At this point, it's tough to tell who was the original perpetuator of this style of music -- was it the assholes who call themselves Grizzly Bear or the asshole who calls himself Sufjan Stevens? No matter, it's still a wholely rock-less era which I'm far from surprised has led to a major increase in automatic weapon purchases; I'm sure most people would think it's a bunch of Nugentified right-wingers interested in gunning down President Obama, but the further along this seemingly endless debut album goes on, the more I'm convinced a bunch of Fleet Foxes enthusiasts are this close to being blown away any second now. After all, this is probably the first time in history a popular music group is too wussy for the President of the United States.