Fits

White hot rockers give two fingers to difficult second album.

Even more than on last year’s auspicious digital-only "Exposion," Austin’s White Denim stomp down the fine line between fertile versatility and iffy uncertainty. More often than not on Fits, this works out awesome.

On that first listen, then, Fits is unlikely to come off well....By the third, you're clamouring for tickets to see them live.

White Denim somehow manage to cover all points of the musical compass without ever losing their overall sense of direction.

With so many disparate elements spliced together, Fits should be a terrible mess, but the Texan trio exercise glorious control throughout, ensuring that every blast of noise has its tender counterpoint.

It’s a rare pleasure to hear a band so at ease with themselves, playing with no obvious aim or agenda beyond having a good time and hoping you do, too. The best thing about Fits is imagining how incredible these songs will be when played live.

Fits is sublime, sexy, unmisable. [Jul 2009, p.99]

It’s a fantastic record, a slow-burn masterpiece that buds gradually and thrives on the oxygen of repeated exposure.

A third-eye dilator to be sure, but surprisingly easy to groove to. [Jul 2009, p.131]

Hearing all these different stylistic excursions at first makes for a rather disjointed listening experience, however, almost as if the band is overcome with the need to try to be eclectic. Yet repeat listens slowly reveal the brilliance of Fits, each element deftly playing off another to make for a remarkably cohesive rock time machine.

A weird psychedelic mindset is woven through everything, and even though everything constantly seems on the verge of combustion, the songs on Fits always manage to hold together and work themselves out with exciting, engaging results.

It’s also worth pointing out that as good as White Denim is at riling up your inner animal, they can also charm its socks off with tracks like the jaunty, upbeat 'Paint Yourself,' which opens with a lively acoustic chord progression that soon erupts into lo-fi pop bliss.

The Fits and starts shaking and quaking this psychedelic shack in short, sharp bursts of fragmented soul and fractured R&B are the sum total of this flagship local trio's second LP.

Fits feels like the band's formal first LP--lots of what makes them unique, and then those somewhat awkward "growth" points. That initial itchiness, in other words, never really goes away.

You might listen to both albums and still feel uncomfortable trying to pin the band down. That’s a good thing, mostly. It reflects curiosity and ambition, along with a bit of willful obfuscation.

On its third LP, Fits, the Austin outfit White Denim thrives with wailing, wavering guitars, fuzzed-out basslines, and spiritied shouts. [Fall 2009, p.60]

When the album reaches its climax at about mid-point, the record changes pace and you’re left wondering, “What was that?” Ultimately, you don’t totally care to know the answer.

You suspect Fits would fit better live, where the audience have no choice but to go with it, but here the trio sound slightly too pre-occupied with pleasing themselves rather than the listener, greedily ripping through riffs with a tenacity that, while impressive, is often ultimately self-defeating.