CHRIS ROBLEY & THE FEAR OF
HEIGHTS
Movie Theatre Haiku CD – Cutthroat Pop

There’s a point during “A Memory Lost at Sea,” which opens Chris Robley’s third effort, Movie Theatre Haiku, when you realize Robley is more than just an indie rocker with a singer/songwriter knack. It is not the judicious use of sax or the slightly askew arrangement. The moment comes when you grasp that the main character is suffering with no closure from his boy’s death. That’s when it is clear Robley is one of the best short-story musicians to come along in quite some time. Robley, who hails from Portland, Oregon, has an Elliott Smithian aspect, including a dramatic viewpoint with a poetic perceptiveness, which gives his songs a well-grounded, literate depth. Movie Theatre Haiku is full of eclectic notions that support Robley’s direct, often misanthropic commentary. “My Life in Film Festivals,” which is quickened by power guitar and kazoo, and folktronica “Solipsist in Love” are both scraped by lyrical pain. Unsparing “User- Friendly Guide to Change” melds Beatles-esque pop with electronica elements, where guitars and synth are balanced by punchy horns. One prominent piece is “Permanent Fixture of Regret,” a smartly written picture of amplified self-loathing which connects the dots between Loudon Wainwright-esque romantic dissolution and Belle and Sebastian-ish melodic indie-pop textures. Movie Theatre Haiku is an album of tension and ambition best experienced with detailed
and repeated inspection. (Doug Simpson)