Umbrella Tree are a band I want to say someone recommended to me on the Sound Opinions forum like 2 or 3 years ago. Likely 2009, but I'm not certain.

edit; yeah early in 2009. In my rateyourmusic.com review of their last record, I wrote this:

ooh..not at all disappointed on 1st impression here. They share qualities with some of the Indie/Psych-Pop bands like The Jealous Girlfriends and The Ebb and Flow, as well as the epic piano-driven nature at times of Wolf Parade. But not having it become too lengthly..much like a group like Big Fresh. Less-is-more. Gonna have to spend a lot more time with it, but I enjoyed more or less the whole thing. The piano and male/female vocal arrangements worked really well. 70/100

And since then, I have become more familiar with them, one thing being Timbre I believe played on one or maybe both of their albums.

But at any case, I'm definitely curious about this new record of theirs, even though I haven't really listened to their music in probably over a year. Given this new record is coming next year, but also next week potentially for the kickstarter pledges, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to revisit their other albums soon.

I highly recommend this band. Their albums are always well crafted, and their live performances are authentic and genuine. One gets the feeling that Umbrella Tree embodies the spirit of the late 1800s, the style and grandeur of the early part of the 1900s and the technology of the modern age.

What's more, Zack tells me that, "since the new stuff is so beat-y and dance-y, we will be posting the vocals and solos and such for remixers and their ilk to download."

Albums, What Kind Of Books Do You Read and The Letter C, released in 2006 and 2009 respectively, are also outstanding. Check them out before their new album drops this summer.

Their website, www.umbrellatreeband.com, is up and running, but the official launch date is set for the near future. Go ahead, click on it. You'll like them.

What, then, legitimately falls into the category of progressive rock in the music world of 2009? Enter Umbrella Tree and their latest album, The Letter C. The two-man-one-woman band from Nashville deliver a refreshing and—dare I say—reformed concoction of eclectic tunes, finding roots in Decemberists-style gothic lyrics driven by a sound not unlike Arcade Fire with hints of The Deadly Syndrome. Their sound is nothing if not complex and, though complexity itself doesn’t necessarily have much to do with quality, Umbrella Tree seamlessly bridges the gap between the two.

There isn’t a single track on The Letter C that sounds like the next, yet each song is very distinctly Umbrella Tree. From the climactic build-up of “Show and Tell” to the eerie theme of what we’ll call the “Periscope Trilogy” to the flawless vocal tradeoffs and harmonies between band members Zachary Gresham and Jillian Leigh, this record redefines track diversity. Yet with consistent use of minor keys, spectral synthesizers, and bizarre lyrical storylines, the musical assortments still fit snugly into a single sixteen-track package. Throw in phrase changes, the rock equivalent of song “movements,” and the occasional blending of one track to the next, and Umbrella Tree has very nearly, though most likely unintentionally, created something of a mini-rock opera.

Despite The Letter C‘s concept-album ambitions, the scattered lyrics keep it from quite making the cut. Each song tells its own offbeat story, and though the “Periscope Trilogy” takes occasional pains to tie them together, they ultimately stand alone. The opening track, for example, tells the captivating story of a king who grows increasingly paranoid of his subjects, while “Uncle William” spins the tale of a man who used to talk to gods until receiving a head injury that caused him to lose his religion. The only apparent common threads being those of psychosis and nonsense. There’s a bit more realism in songs like “I Wish I Was But I Regret To Inform You”—the familiar, sad tale of unrequited love, retold with a sweetness that thankfully transcends cliché—and the heart-wrenching laments “Samuel Crawford’s Widow” and “Letter To Mary,” both of which exhibit perfect blends of funereal poetry with aching melodies.

The only questionable thing about Umbrella Tree and their latest release is: why haven’t more people heard of them? One possibility is that their label, which they appear to have founded themselves, doesn’t offer much in the way of band promotion. Or it could be that their band’s official website doesn’t even show up in a Google search of “Umbrella Tree.” Of course, it’s always possible that the band just doesn’t want to be bigger than they are, although it would be a travesty for such unique musicianship to be confined only to word of mouth and the few reviews that still exist in internet archives.

No matter the reasons for the band’s tragic lack of publicity, one thing remains certain: if there can be any definition at all to the genre of prog-rock, then Umbrella Tree must join the greats at the top of that list. Contemporary artists who are not only willing to push the boundaries, but to gleefully leap over them, laying down quality, honest music—even if a little weird—are few and far between. If what we all used to know and love as rock n’ roll is ever going to dig itself out of the drudgery it so often finds itself stuck in today, if there is to continue to be any progression at all, we can anticipate with much joy that Umbrella Tree will also continue to be one of the key players.

The amount of attention the band has put into this package is impressive; accompanying the 16-track CD is a DVD that contains videos (of the modestly homemade, no-budget, yet well-edited kind) for all songs, along with live footage and extra videos.

On an album with pop instrumentation, including prominent keyboard lines and tasteful cello flourishes, unexpectedly, the most distinctive element of the band’s sound is the drumming; Derek Pearson avoids common beat patterns, and the album is mixed to allow his cymbal crashes to very slowly dissolve, leaving a mist of mystery. Singers Zachary Gresham and Jillian Leigh alternate duties or blend together, and the softie in me is drawn to the more straightforward ballad-type numbers, like the hard-to-resist “Starfish,” tenderly carried by Leigh, over the album’s mildly off-kilter numbers.

The group’s approach is somewhere between rock and pop and on The Letter C, it seems like the band doesn’t feel the need to take sides, which can be a little frustrating at times. To clarify, there are times when the ebb and flow of the album seem to need a liberating rock release, and at other times, one might want a pure, hook-laden pop song to carry the momentum. Overall with Umbrella Tree, there seems to also be a “cute” vs. “dark” battle, but on this effort, darkness definitely wins out.

At first blush the album appears to revolve around a nautical theme. Swaying 3/3 signatures will suddenly shift like the seas into rockier, more disjointed patterns. And with track names like "Ocean Sober", "Starfish", and interludes called "Periscoper" (A through C) it's easy to assume they're taking us down in a lemon-tinged submersible. The lyrics, however, tell a darker story.

Despite the cover art, The Letter C isn't about going to sea; it's about what happens to the rest of us. And while the ocean is an oft used metaphor in music, its depth promises continuous revelations. Swimming among the arias and ballads, the bold melodies and orchestral accompaniments, we hear from characters in the tone of their own broken colloqualisms. In this way, Umbrella Tree casts its players with heartfelt imagination; players who, like those living in a small fishing village, exhibit two primary emotions: hope and aloneness.

The Letter C--a two-disc set including a DVD full of videos--is a troubling album masquerading as a comedy. And like an actress or widow, it puts on a brave face and steps into the light.