Hilarious Review of "To Build A Fire"

By D. A. Peters
February 2, 2010

Until recently, Post Human Era co-founder Daniel Finfer wasn't known for being prolific. Actually, he wasn’t known much outside of the California University music scene – and cities in Washington State with populations under 9000.

So, when I heard he was creating an album called, “To Build A Fire” my first thought was, “Jack London’s going to be pissed!”

Virtually all of Post Human Era is the studio output of Daniel Finfer, a California resident. While touring live, he is flanked by his brother, Mike Finfer and Steve Kurshner on drums.

The band is really best understood in the context of its influences: there are elements of Nine Inch Nails, the Postal Service, Radiohead, even Kraftwerk. In a way, it’s a tribute to Daniel Finfer’s composition process to have such traditional melodies and song structures buried under layers of noise (and interspersed with experimental fair). He sounds both contemporary and vintage – a step up from overly self-aware kitsch that plagues most independent labels.

It seems, Post Human Era is about moving forward while acknowledging the debt owed to artists past. Newton summarized it as “standing on the shoulders of giants.”

The production is incredibly crisp for a label-less, manager-less band: synths, guitars, baselines, and drums all serving toward Post Human Era’s undeniable pop sensibilities. However, unlike his electronic pop contemporaries, he doesn’t dabble in nostalgia for irony’s sake – no Lady Gaga moments, despite both can churn a catchy chorus. The high melodies are bright (“Lost Children”), the brooding parts are muddied and languishing in cerebral moments (“Holograms”).

The lyrics and vocals stand apart on many songs: otherwise moody content is offset by Daniel Finfer’s impressive range. He’s a competent vocalist: going from warm hooks to brooding tenor sections. There’s restraint to explore musical landscapes rather than overindulge a melody or hook. There’s even reference to Rene Descartes as he croons, “I’ll be the ghost in your machine.” Distinct themes reoccur – from the social commentary/relationship metaphor of a fire to existential, lonely malaise that recalls authors like Albert Camus or acts like the early Cure but layered in something more easily digestible and ironically catchy.

Final Grade: A-