this doesn’t happen often, but with this band i feel like i have been graced into listening to a band at the beginning of something that could be great. having been tipped off last year on a trip to chicago, i kept a distant lazy eye on the bands proceedings, checked out a few mp3s (but of course) and then managed to get my mucky hands onto a copy of the debut album before it comes anywhere near the uk. and strike me down with a bolt of lightening if this isn’t the only guitar based indie rock album that i have come back to over and over in the last few weeks.

you can keep your beautifully packaged promos maccabees, shove your poster packs tiny dancers where the sun doesn’t shine, your music bores me rigid. instead i realised that i prefer to listen to this strange combination of classic indie guitar pop with upfront studio massaging that twists the end results into all manner of unique sounding songs.

a key song in this realisation for me, was the manic intensity of my my (bad fruit) with the layers of angry fuzzed up guitars and sharp pop hooks. if after the third listen, you don’t have this song lodged in your noggin, then you may as well stop reading here .. this album highlight is swiftly improved upon with 100 yrs, that on initial airings is just more of the same, but with a more varied approach to the production and vocal treatments, but, when the 3 minute hits, the vocal harmonies go for a stroll in the sunny park, and everything gels brilliantly, making way for the grand finale with a large sounding glockenspiel-type of keybaord part.

that’s it, i’m totally sold on this band, i love it.

this happy disposition is then totally blown away by intimidation, during which the band advocate the listener go away and get beaten up to a bloody pulp to see how it feels. now that’s an interesting fan-band relationship going on there ! 

thankfully, the opening chaos subsides with chemical dress eliza guitar lines are echoed and given space with the song building up gently making for a wonderful album centrepiece. the calm is soon dispelled as cheap synths battle for supremacy over more grotty guitars during the cutup production of lights off and even with repeated listening, i am not sure who wins.

for the rest of the album, the pattern is set, the band play a song that rattles along, before someone behind a mixing desk adds a chunk of supposedly random weirdness to the mix, some distortion here, a fucked up drum loop there, and a blast of noise. result.

when mason proper do deviate from their beloved blueprint, the results prove that underneath the traditional setup is a band obviously willing to experiment, nay desperate to do so, the best example of this has to be the beautiful i spy, where the music is totally guitar/fuzz free, and instead comprises of layered ambience, strange noises, and hard stereo phasing of vocals, this slice of eerie pop is then capitalised upon with the radio friendly lips cornucopia where a piano holds the forefront of the melody and given the right circumstances lighters will be held aloft.

if indie rock showcase program the oc were still in production this song would have totally taken the season trophy home, it’s an excellent example of heartfelt emotion and deft instrumentation.

bringing the album to a close with the more restrained double bill of carousel! carousel!, and the epic blue lips eternal inquiry its not long before the urge rises to hit the play button once more, as the album becomes more and more essential with each spin.

 

more detail : here