“In this house/ there’s no order,” or so Wolf Parade announces on “Fine Young Cannibals,” one of the standout tracks from the band’s latest full-length album, At Mount Zoomer. The statement, though in sync with the band’s obsession with chaos and disarray, is in no way a reflection on the musical leaps and bounds taken since Wolf Parade’s first full-length LP.
Make no mistake – this parade is on the move.
Once pegged by many as another Modest Mouse cousin, Wolf Parade has transformed into something only hinted at in its Isaac Brock-produced debut, Apologies to the Queen Mary. On Zoomer, the band members prove they are no mere modest mice in wolves’ clothing.
Favoring a looser template, Wolf Parade alternates between compact pop and more progressive compositions, sometimes dragging songs out a bit past their welcome. There are hints of Fear of Music-era Talking Heads, maybe even a bit of Television, but from the bizarre album artwork down through the shifting melodies, Zoomer is very much its own entity.
With reinvention comes sacrifice, and not all tinkering is for the best. But eventually the album’s uneven start gives way to an increasingly rewarding exploration of the weirder side of rock. Zoomer remains graciously less avant-garde and arty than Swan Lake’s Beast Moans (which featured Wolf Parade founding member Spencer Krug) while still managing to push the limits of popular song structure.
The vocal/songwriting team of Krug and Dan Boeckner (sometimes barely indistinguishable on Zoomer) offers up one whirling, synth-infused melody after another. The heavily layered “California Dreamer” gets downright aggressive at the refrain, punctuated by the soft lyrical stab of “The city doesn’t belong to you anymore/ California dreamer.”
Death and imposition inhabit much of Zoomer’s world, where the songs shift through various shades of threatening. The cryptic “Call It A Ritual” gathers on a stormy horizon of pianos and nervous guitars, “Fine Young Cannibals” belies its soured relationship subject matter with a catchy riff.
All the negativity adds up to a pretty bleak, claustrophobic 45 minutes of music. The nadir would be the beautifully wounded “An Animal In Your Care” on which Krug speaks out: “Like some dead relative/ You will remember me most/ By my funeral … We’ve both been filling up our days like we were filling up a grave.” Every gal deserves a summer ballad brimming with such sentiment.
The “lai lai lais” sound all the less convincing in the insular toast to a lopsided relationship, yet the song hits on an incredibly personal level, the ramblings of a man envisioning his death.
It is Wolf Parade’s uncompromising vision on Zoomer driving the album through the darkest corners of the psyche. The relative strength of one song bleeds into the next, and the scant weaker track here and there is quickly forgotten. “The Grey Estates” may be unremarkable at first listen, but in the bigger picture, it slides in comfortably between the best album tracks.
For all its strengths and weaknesses, Zoomer lives and breathes as a single thought, a well-conceived creative statement. Perhaps Wolf Parade is still finding its sound, or maybe they have settled on what feels right, but either way, the band has certainly matured.
After Apologies, there were many directions Wolf Parade could have followed. But none of them could have fully predicted the album the band cooked up.
With intent focus and better chops than expected, Wolf Parade seems capable of whatever it sets out to achieve. As Krug sings on the harpsichord-driven tune “Bang Your Drum,” “It’s cold/ It’s dark/ It’s not for people with an easy heart/ But if you’re with me on the other side/ Strike up the band/ We have survived.”
There could not be a more apt description of Zoomer. The album’s a strange trip, and it feels leagues longer than it actually is, but for those willing to step slightly left of the norm, Wolf Parade’s latest should not disappoint.
zherrm@gmail.com
Verdict: 3 1?2 stars out of 5
