Music is intangible, so as music journalists, we sometimes have difficulty communicating the qualities of a good album. Outright terrible artists are easy to review—they usually have numerous and obvious flaws. But sometimes a wonderful song or work just has a certain je ne sais quoi. We make up for this pitfall of translating sound into words by describing the who, how, and why—we name the artist, the instruments used, the lyrics (which I will do later in this review)—and sometimes omit, or fail to properly depict the what—what the album sounds like.

Even when attempting to cover the what, we only have very subjective adjectives at our disposal. So I apologize, but I’m going to whip out some vague words to help you wrap your mind around Community Balloon. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, and overall, it’s dreamy. What does “dreamy” mean in this case exactly? The music is reminiscent of Sigur Ros’ softer moments. At times the lyrics can be hummed, like a little sung secret, or it can even come faster, like slam poetry, as Matthew Carefully does on “Risky Yellow Fly.” In general dreamy music tickles the back of your neck, relaxes your body and lulls your mind. While I was listening to Community Balloon, it was a rare gorgeous day outside, and my cat was steadily dozing off in a patch of sunlight. That is the visual I want you to retain when listening to this album—even when the songs become a tad darker, like in “Space Nurses,” it’s about beauty, about taking a wonderful or melancholic moment and stretching it out to ponder its splendor.

I once interviewed a band called KaiserCartel, and the singer told me the purpose of her music is to heal—to use her heartfelt voice and music to mend whatever ails the listener. This is what Carefully does with his latest work—his songs are meditative, reminiscing, and can remove you from a stressful or negative moment.

Now for the meat of the piece. Community Balloon is a rich, textured album that is surprisingly, a solo work. Kind of. Matthew Carefully, formerly Matthew Loiacono of Albany band Kamikaze Hearts, performs all the music and vocals, but the actual creation of the album was a communal effort. A few months ago Carefully sent out an email to his fans requesting ideas and inspirations for his new project. He received lyrics, poetry, photography, and music samples. “The Age of Reason II” came from a series of poems written by Alex Muro of Sgt. Dunbar and the Hobo Banned while “Clever” arose from a drum sample created by a little girl.

Carefully uses a loop pedal and sequencer to harmonize with himself in songs like “Poughkeepsie.” His voice is soothing, at times a whisper, at times almost a rap, and always genuine. The music behind him ranges from the experimental noise, to hand claps and maracas, or complete silence. Where he really shines, though, is in his string skills. This is most evident in “The Age of Reason II.” During his live show at Caffe Lena in Saratoga, NY, Carefully often switched between acoustic guitar, banjo and mandolin during his set; he does the same in Community Balloon. Carefully is not new to plucking strings—he played mandolin for Kamikaze hearts—and in this album his honed talent is repeatedly brought to center stage, adding complexity to “Space Nurses,” even if sounding too simplistic in the acoustic “All Day Long.”

One major drawback plagues the majority of this album, however: the production quality. Community Balloon sounds like it was recorded on GarageBand with a mediocre computer microphone. While in standout songs like “Space Nurses,” “Poughkeepsie,” and “Clever” this element is forgiven due to the quality of the music, lyrics, and vocals, better production would have vastly improved other tracks. “Risky Yellow Fly” is a great song, but at one point Carefully’s voice fades away, and it’s obvious that he just leaned away from the microphone. Lo-fi has its endearing qualities, but when music is too lo-fi it detracts from the work’s purpose. It’s like finding a gorgeous photo, and then realizing the photographer’s reflection is unintentionally in the background. When a piece of art, whether a photograph, painting, or song, is not exclusively encased in its own world, when the mechanisms of its creation are portrayed, it removes the art’s ethereal essence, muddies it with reality, and distracts from its purpose. In other words, you don’t want listeners thinking about GarageBand when they should be thinking about your song’s lyrics and style.

A bit of filler stuffs Community Balloon too. “Un-Tear” isn’t harmonized correctly, sounding disjointed. “Shape” falls flat, laboring through its four minutes like it’s trying to run out the clock, and “All Day Long” sounds like cutting room litter from Nirvana’s Unplugged. The last track, “A Description of Things Rick Moody Could See from his Desk,” may not be a hit with most people—it takes a few listens to warm up to. At first I thought it was boring, but eventually the repetitive chanting poetry of the song grew on me.

Overall, Community Balloon is dreamy, gorgeous, hopeful, sad, airy, fuzzy, experimental, and all those other words that really mean nothing until you hear the album. So hear it already. You can also read IYS’s interview with Matthew back when he was still a Loiacono here .

Track List:
1. Un-Tear
2. Space Nurses
3. Risky Yellow Fly
4. Shape
5. All Day Long
6. The Age of Reason II
7. Poughkeepsie
8. Clever
9. The Old Stream
10. A Description of Things Rick Moody Could See from his Desk