From Iceland — 1860: Sagan

Published March 20, 2012

I first saw 1860 in October of last year, not long after their inception, and was drawn to the catchy, simple chord progressions, bouncy triads, and hummable choruses; their debut album, ‘Sagan,’ is much of the same, with lime ice cream-covered rhymes, liquefied over an uncomplicated and folky, beard-rock popsicle stick.
By the middle of the first track, you know what to expect from the rest of the album—while each song has an attractive hook, only once during the decidedly enjoyable ‘Love & Lime’ did I really feel like these boys nailed it. For an album that involuntarily evokes images of sepia-bleached Polaroids, suspenders neatly affixed to white cotton shirts, and autumn picnics in Paris, these songs rarely gave me the urge to relish in those comfortable clichés—instead, I’m sitting inside.
Ultimately, I suggest that you give this album a listen, and make your own decisions! I hope these gentlemen continue making a go of it, for I have the feeling that when it’s time for their second album to roll around, the songwriting and composition will have matured significantly. While ‘Sagan’ doesn’t tear down any folk music boundaries, as it stands right now, 1860’s debut offering is a fun, yet undeveloped, experience. Standout tracks: ‘Love & Lime’, ‘Consequences’.
myspace.com/1986theband