San Francisco based filmmaker Paul Burke and New York sculptor Steve Shaheen didn’t stay fallow when the COVID-19 lockdowns temporarily felled their careers. The two men turned to another love they share, songwriting, and began collaborating on what would become the self-titled debut Toy City album. The nine songs they’ve included on this release include two covers and the remaining seven tracks are introspective sans any navel-gazing. This means they’ve managed to balance self-reflection alongside accessibility and produced material capable of engaging listeners across the board.
The album opens with the first of its two covers. “Do Re Mi”, a popular number from the iconic musical The Sound of Music, receives an alt-rock guitar treatment in their hands. It’s a testament to the song’s elasticity that it endures in this guise. It has a palpable live feel despite the two men working remotely for much of the album’s recording. The album’s second track “Dinosaur”, an original, finds Burke and Shaheen brooding over the sacrifices and adjustments adult life foists upon us all without any of the accompanying self-pity that might mar other tunes. It’s much more “together” than the occasionally tossed together feel of the album opener, but no less convincing.
“Mountains” stands out even amidst the other fine material on the album. Bringing piano into the arrangement gives the song dimensions it wouldn’t otherwise have, and Toy City is careful not to overdo it. It blends in well with both the song’s tempo and its other instrumentation. The lyrics are some of the finest on the release and the vocals elevate them without overshadowing the music. “Glue-All” is definitely one of the debut’s standout moments as well. It’s an idiosyncratic move to use the words from an Elmer’s Glue bottle for your lyrics, but Toy City makes it work without ever sounding ridiculous.
“Figure 5” looks outside of the band for the lyrics as well, but it aims a little loftier than a glue bottle. Toy City takes a William Carlos Williams poem as the source for the song’s words and builds a warm melodic arrangement around them. Everything fits here. John Hiser’s drumming keeps the song moving forward at the right pace and the guitar carries the melody without ever slipping into histrionics. “Bicycle Thief” swells to life before launching into the arrangement in earnest. Blake and Shaheen look to Italian films for their inspiration here, hence the song title, and this near cut-up style of songwriting produces satisfying results.
The second to last track, “Margherita Regina”, is a sketchy character study of a sort, but they do more by suggestion than outright statement. Even if there isn’t any soloing or traditional lead guitar present during this album, it’s impossible to not admire the guitar sound they achieve. It’s tense, brooding, and sparks every song to life. They strip everything away to its essence for much of the finale. Their cover of John Lennon’s “Imagine” has not of the plaintive yearning we associate with the original, but it remains affecting in their hands. They render the timeless melody in their own way. It’s a conclusion for the project’s self-titled debut that, like the remainder of the album, lingers with you long after the final note fades.
Kim Muncie