og’s self titled debut last year hit most independent music fans unaware. Few knew what to make of it. The album was sloppy, yet refined. The music was unique, yet extremely accessible. The outcome was one of the finer releases of the year.


This month sees the release of the Andrew Broder’s second full-length album, Ether Teeth. The album brings back some of the same mess that typified his first record. One hears elements of hip hop, rock, turntables, classical, and singer-songwriter all mixed into Ether Teeth. To facilitate the music, Broder uses piano, gum chewing, banjos, trumpets, bird songs, samples and more sounds that can’t really be described. At the same time, its organization and progression of sounds brings a type of comfort one might associate with the hum of tires on the highway. Certainly, it’s a homogenous feel that remains throughout the album. There aren’t an overwhelming amount of climaxes, but when they do come, they are truly overwhelming.


The album starts softly with the plaintive “Plum Dumb,” suggesting that this may be best served at night alone until the catchy single, “What a Day Day” comes and beckons the listener to not dismiss this as background music. It readily takes over. The song also showcases one of the most refreshing aspects of Fog – Broder's vocals. Shying away from heavy compression or studio trickery, the vocals sound fearless and extremely free flowing. Even some of the overly saccharine moments in the album (like “See It? See It?”) merits listening.


If on Fog you liked the pure instrumental melody of “Check Fraud”, some of the same melodic antics can be found on this albums finest track – “The Girl From the Gum Commercial”. The song starts with a giddy folk feel, but leads into an extremely saturated and emotional instrumental chorus. If you are listening closely enough, it leaves you in an emotional state that doesn’t exit your body till long after the album is finished.


“They call me Mr. Big Deal. I don’t even go to movies, so when I go to movies, it’s a pretty big fucking deal.” Upon reading these lyrics, the triviality of lines like these in “Under A Anvil Tree” seems dry and juvenile. The music, however, transforms the feel, sincerity and meaning of these words. A simple acoustic guitar melody makes it way underneath Brorders’ cracked voice and occasional orchestral swells, which soon coalesces into a solid groove. At work here is Broder’s seeming conflict- the unconfident lyrical content mixed with the equally as warbly, yet completely assured, musical accompaniment. When he sings, “Sitting under an anvil tree, waiting for an anvil to fall” there is little guessing what he’s feeling. He continues, “I flop like a fish on a dock, conk me with a frying pan to make me stop. Clothes in a dryer, leaves in the breeze...”


There have been very few artists out that one can’t readily put into a genre. Yet somehow, Fog defies categorization. This, inevitably, leads to a sound of extreme freedom. The result is one of the best and most refreshing albums released in a long time.