More proof that the pop scene in Portland, Oregon, is still blooming: the snappy sounds of Man Of The Year. The Future Is Not Now is the debut long-player from the quartet-formerly-known-as-Lolly (a name change forced by the discovery of a band already using that moniker). Its 10 bouncy, hummable tunes are marked with the sort of super-stereophonic production associated with popular Britpop acts -- not surprising given that the band was produced by Tony Lash, known for his work on the similarly styled first two albums by fellow Portlanders the Dandy Warhols. The band’s straightforward pop benefits from Katy Sanford’s playful keyboards, and embellishments like the restrained trumpet on “Toledo.” Pulling vocal duties is guitarist Tod Morrisey, whose ever-so-slight faux-British accent fits in well, and is supported by bubbly backing harmonies. On ballads such as “Cutie” and “Supernatural,” he pulls off a ! falsetto that will surely delight.
- Kelso Jacks, CMJ
NEWS & REVIEWS
Let’s get one thing straight--the end of the fraternal feuding between the Brothers Gallagher (and subsequent boring albums and declining sales) absolutely did NOT mark the death of Britpop. Fortunately, there are plenty of bands who continue to live for (and create) stylish, guitar-driven pop tunes with massive hooks. Even more fortunately, we’re blessed with one right in our own backyard. Portland’s Man of the Year have delivered a fine debut, The Future Is Not Now with a single (“Silver Dollar”) so good you instantly have to know who Man of the Year are. If there’s any justice in this life, people won’t be asking who they are much longer. Catch them now, while you can.
- Barbara Mitchell, The Stranger
Man of the Year may be the most British band ever to emerge from Portland. And coming from a town that has spawned the Anglophilic likes of the ultra-smarmy Dandy Warhols and the shoe-gazing Swoon 23, that’s in itself a bit of a remarkable achievement. Not that former Nero’s Rome frontman Tod Morrisey is crooning in some hokey faux-Manchester drawl, nor (thankfully!) have the group -- Morrisey, drummer Lance Kreiter, bassist Kelly Simmons and keyboard player Katy Sanford -- decked out their debut album, “The Future is Not Now,” in any misguided Union Jack iconography. However, straight from the kickoff of the opening track, “Silver Dollar,” Man of the Year seem to be pledging its allegiance to the flag of a musical nation bounded by Brit-pop icons such as Oasis, Blur and Elastica. Several chunky licks (in particular the introductions to both “Parade of Stars” and “A Little Pill”) may prompt an imaginary phone to the side of the head and the recital of the phrase, “Hello, Man of the Year? Teenage Fanclub called: They want their catchy guitar hooks back.” Regardless of treading in relatively well-charted waters, “The Future is Not Now” is still an accomplished piece of work. Local knob twisters Tony Lash and Jeff Saltzman have come up with an ace production and engineering job, and the CD has a healthy number of cool musical surprises for anyone willing to disregard the atlas. Even tunes that don’t immediately roll out of the gate with grand pop gestures still offer satisfying payoffs here and there. The repetition of the chorus, “Don’t ask why,” from “Supernatural” playing against the shimmering keyboard work is as bright and basic and agreeable as any other pop snatch you’ll hear currently. The clipped trumpet bursts on “Toledo” (courtesy of Gresham’s own Eric Matthews), give a jaunty Herb Alpert feel that complements the acoustic guitar arrangement deftly. Even when some songs don’t quite grasp what they reach for (the sparse and whispery stew of “Clubhouse” needs salt), the band never turns in anything less than a perfectly realized understanding of the material.
- Curt Schulz, The Oregonian
Man of the Year, once known as Lolly, is an indie pop rock force to be reckoned with. On this album they blend the simplicity of pop punk guitar riffs with the intricacies of technology. They use their Guitar for more than chords and notes, they create noises that are a garage version of Radiohead’s “OK Computer” album. The album has a driving force behind it that isn’t painfully obvious, there’s a mystique about it that leaves you satisfied and in a state of wonder. The brightest spots on this album are “Supernatural,” and “Clubhouse.” This album proves that indie pop rock can still kick your neighbor’s ass.
- l-dawg, Illandalice
If you’re thinking of naming your band Man of the Year, forget it--the band formerly known as Lolly recently adopted the moniker when another Lolly was discovered. Fortunately, the name change happened before the band’s debut release (slated for late July) on Seattle indie Loveless Records. It doesn’t really matter anyway--boyish harmonies and head-bobbing choruses by any other name will sound as sweet.
- Liz Brown, Willammette Week
My pal Brad has a fantasy Portland show line-up: Laurel Canyon would open, then 31 Knots would play, and the Swords Project would headline. I agree with him; that would be an amazing show (especially if Kaleid played, too), but very textural. What about the rock? In that case, Tennis would have to be the openers, The Disappearer would play in the middle (to throw in some angst between the joy), and Man of the Year would end the show in a super-slick, all-out, swaying-lighter-warranting brouhaha, and they’d look really, really good doing it. So can someone arrange these shows, please? (See My, What a Busy Week page 13)
- JS, Portland Mercury
“Touched by the hand of Tony Lash.” This is what records like Man of the Year’s debut should say; Tony brings more to the soundboard than most producers. You can tell from the start: the crisp fuzz of Guitar tuned to that secret new-wave key that the Knack created and passed to the chosen. It’s the crackle he gave the Dandys, the shine he polished onto Sunset Valley. Here we have the lovely sound of an analog keyboard--often just pressed and held, a blanket of stars providing a backdrop for a sleek rocket ship. Man of the Year used to be Lolly; the pedigree of its members reads like a history of late ‘90s Portland indie. But this ain’t retro; this is New Fun, Big Pop, solid quirk rawk. It’s not perfect, but its imperfection is its charm. The way the vocals--fake British accent and all--are slightly shy of being dead-on, the way the Guitar jangle, the way the songs fade and don’t really end. Man of the Year as Band of the Year? Not hardly, but Band Right Now is just as good.
- Jamie S. Rich, Portland Mercury
(Man of the Year) hasn’t wasted any time getting it’s pop hooks into the local scene, with head-bobbing tunes and dreamy numbers as innocent as puppy love. Pristine, boyish vocals reminiscent of the shoe-gazing Hang-Ups showcase the band’s fresh melodies and flawless harmonies, distinguishing this organic pop from the saccharine-sweet variety.
- Willamette Week
Silver Dollar is perfect pop at it’s most perfect and poppy. Laidback yet forceful Guitar, clever bass-lines that go beyond the call of duty without breaking a sweat and some of the catchiest wash-these-out-of-your-jeans backing vocals la-la-la’d sonce the first Dandy Warhols album. “Hovercraft” slips into astral gear threeand, as the title suggests, glides above the ground and waves with effortless cool that most bands can only pretend they have. The bar of excellence has been re-set...
- The Rocket
One of the NW best hopes for national prominence.
- Richard Martin, Willamette Week
...part of the next generation of great NW indie-rock bands.
- Alyssa Isenstien, Willamette Week
