Alexander - Rolling Stone
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If it's vaguely hippie-ish and vaguely Californian, count on Ebert to work it into his solo debut: acid-folk reveries, Beck-ish busker rap, lyrics about Vietnam, sensitive maleness, Dylanisms, yodeling, calling women "mama," reggae, bongos. A Jesus-beard guy who fronts the 11-piece collective Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Ebert has been working the L.A. music scene for more than a decade. But the dream-catcher naiveté he tries on here seems genuine. It's also kind of annoying: "Would you call the Earth an asshole for turning round and round?/Ya know it never, ever stays in just one place." We wouldn't, because unlike some people, we weren't skipping out of science class to do 'shrooms.

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In This Article: Alexander Ebert


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