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Bueno - "I Was A Thing Of Beauty" | Album Review

by Christopher J. Lee (@joonhai)

The second track off I Was a Thing of Beauty entitled “Talking at the Ground” is the best song Stephen Malkmus has written since the demise of Pavement. Okay, it is not written by Malkmus, but, damn, it comes close to being a Malkmus composition – the meandering, conversational vocal line, the bright guitar notes, and the blast of fuzz guitar to close off a stanza of thought. Different musicians and bands have paid tribute to the indie rock elder – Parquet Courts or Beabadoobee and her slack homage “I Wish I Was Stephen Malkmus,” for example – but Bueno nails the comparison best without obvious name dropping. This approach can be said to characterize this excellent album as a whole.

Like Pete Davidson and Wu-Tang Clan, Bueno hail from Staten Island. Like these incongruous forebears, they also retain a somewhat arch worldview that informs what they write and what they have to say, whether addressing personal relationships or New York City. Bueno started out in 2009 with the name In Buenos Aires, which was then shortened to Bueno circa 2012. Their first release, a three-song EP titled Skinpop, came out in 2013, which established a jazzy post-rock vibe involving horns, keyboards, and other instruments. It sounds situated somewhere between Tortoise, Stereolab, and Beirut, with lead vocalist Luke Chiaruttini delivering deadpan missives like “Every day, when I look out of my window/ There’s a white boy where my horizon should be.” Their single “Little Joe” (2014) dug in further with this musical outlook, though the 7-inch “Assed Out” (2015) radically shifted gears into a more lo-fi noise rock direction, a move elaborated more fully on their debut LP Guilt (2015). Songs like the title track “Guilt” recall early Dinosaur Jr. while tracks like “RCPS Est 1969” similarly bring to mind Dino bassist Lou Barlow, whether under the guise of Sebadoh or The Folk Implosion. 

Bueno’s last album Illuminate Your Room (2016) softened the edges of its predecessor, entering terrain mapped out by Pavement. The second track “I Got Your Back” sounds like something Spiral Stairs (Scott Kannberg) might have composed circa Wowee Zowee, akin to “Painted Soldiers.” Track seven “Hizznherz” has a danceable ‘80s feel. Meanwhile, the tracks “Burn This Year” and “Babyface” conjure the power pop of the early ‘90s. The nocturnal, closing title track “Illuminate Your Room (Rosebank 4:59 AM)” returns briefly to their avant-jazz roots. The entire album, however, suggests ‘90s lessons learned and internalized. It works really well. 

After a seven-year absence, I Was a Thing of Beauty picks up the narrative from this second pivot. With twelve tracks clocking in at 38 minutes, it is arguably tighter and even more cohesive than its precursor. Furthermore, Malkmus and Co. are not the only references on the new album. The title track has a David Byrne sensibility and danceability. “Bind the Boundary” echoes the Strokes. “Lovers Burn (#13)” has an ‘80s post-punk pop sound, a bit like early R.E.M. when they were recovering from being a dance band at UGA parties. “Blood” gives off shades of Spoon. Suggesting such references isn’t to say this album is derivative, simply that Bueno has excellent taste. Chiaruttini, Michael Gagliardi (guitar, keys, sax), Joe Imburgio (bass), Matt Elkin (guitar), and Casey Weissbuch (drums) have taken their time to assemble a well-crafted set list that speaks to current tastes for pre-millennial sounds. 

Given that it has taken a number of years for this new album to appear, one could read I Was a Thing of Beauty as a make-or-break moment for the band. Clearly, they possess enough patience to wait for songs to come together. Like their esteemed influences, they seem content for the time being to revise their sound as it suits them. This is a good thing. Whether the band has enough stamina for something longer term is less clear. Let’s hope they continue. Deserving of the widest possible attention, I Was a Thing of Beauty is an accomplished album imbued with smarts and pedigree – so much style that it’s wasted, as the saying goes.