The Ruby Suns can either be a shifting conglomerate or just Ryan McPhun, a guy around whom the whole band and its musical idea revolve around. That has been the case on the previous four Ruby Suns albums, and nothing much has changed for Sprite Fountain, this latest one that took McPhun for years to make. And to repeat the pun from the title, it is quite obvious that McPhun had a lot of fun making it. Should we have some while we listen to it?
Oh yes. McPhun’s musical journeys are tied to his personal ones, and they are not that usual. Somebody would consider his native California as the place where most musicians would like to end up, not start from, but that is exactly the start of Ryan’s journey. Passing through Africa (Kenya) and Asia (Thailand), he ended up in Auckland, New Zealand, one of the stronger musical center of the country. The albums Ruby Suns came up with definitely reflect both, McPhun’s Californian heritage and his world travel. Sprite Fountain is no exception.
As with McPhun’s previous outings, two things dominate - California beach harmonies, as in the Beach Boys, and song structures and rhythms that Ryan has picked up during his travels. While you would expect the harmonies to come naturally to him, the infusion of African and Asian music has been done so smoothly, that you have the sense that they were supposed to be there in the first place anyway. This produces quite a colorful musical palette that at times you have the impression you are listening to a musical world review.
When listening to the Ruby Suns debut, you had a feeling at certain moments that they just got out of their lo-fi phase. As the albums that followed came, you heard a progression towards more elaborate, sounds, including electronics and a more elaborate production. Christopher, the album that preceded this one had quite a lavish production by Chris Coady, the guy who produced Grizzly Bear and Beach House. The same trend continues with Sprite Fountain, which at moments gives an impression that it came from more experimental sessions Jeff Lynne did while working with Of Montreal.
In essence, when Waterslide opens the album, you immediately have the sense that you are in for an exciting musical roller coaster ride (after all, The Zipper is named after one). And when King Kake closes the album, you don’t really care if Kake is the name of the king or a pun transcription of a cake. You do get the sense that you just had quite a few slices of a very nice dessert, indeed.
