BeatRoute Magazine Alberta print e-edition - Feb. 2016

love. Infusing elements such as electric guitars
and fast drums, MBF’s new indie rock sound may
be shocking for old fans. Songs such as “One
Love” and “Love or Nothing” utilize melodic and
choral aspects similar to those of his previous
albums, while songs such as “Fire and Rain” and
“This Isn’t It” are nuanced and more fast-paced.
In “Burn With You,” string instruments create
an orchestral sound that complements a wistful
electric guitar. MBF’s vocals and simple acoustic
guitar illustrate his faithfulness to his original
style even as he explores new ground.
The album’s lyrical narrative mirrors the
highs and lows of the musical progression. From
hopeful young love, to loss and frustration,
to wanting to make new love work despite
the realization that, like the final song, “Love
is Hard Sometimes,” MBF creates a refreshing
record that reflects the erratic emotions that
come with being in love. Despite the cliché of
yet another love album to add to everyone’s
lists, the album is a raw, earnest and passionate
portrayal of MBF’s loving self. Because of his
undoubtable loyalty to his Calgarian roots and
fans, MBF decided to release I Wanna Make it
With You at his January concert right here at
home. This gesture of thanks displays MBF’s
genuine, personable nature and his appreciation
for loyal fans.
• Robyn Welsh
Lydia Hol
Heading North
Independent
Vancouver singer/songwriter Lydia Hol’s first
full-length album, Heading North, is a touching
soundscape of tender songs paying homage to
her literary roots. There is a subtle nature to
her melodies giving weight to the lyrics that are
equal parts dream and reality. Hol’s music lives
within the genres of country, folk, roots and
blues. The album weaves an array of instruments
throughout its nine tracks resulting in
arrangements that elevate the simplicity of
each song.
Beginning with “Ammunition,” co-written
with Victoria singer-songwriter Mike Edel, the
presence of violin and cello provide a welcomed
depth that accentuates the song’s grasp. The
album’s title track “Heading North” makes the
biggest impact with a memorable chorus and a
country/roots flare that yearns to be developed
further throughout the rest of the album. “Long
Road” has an undeniable beauty in its pure
delivery, while “Mistress of the Track” takes a
detour in its historical tribute to Canadian race
horse jockey Ron Turcotte — stepping outside
the realm of melody to incorporate recorded live
commentary of one of his award winning races.
Heading North is a delicate offering from
a burgeoning songwriter who has a way with
words that eases and enlightens the listener.
The album provides the perfect backdrop to a
morning spent curled up with a good book and
a warm drink, or do away with the book entirely
and gaze out a window while getting lost in
the intricacies of Hol’s poetry. Time well spent.
• Heather Adamson
Jerk in the Can
Big Crime Baby
Sometime Music
Don’t judge an album by its cover, even if it’s a
pixelated image of a clown stealing a baby from
a stroller on some downtown street. Actually,
on second thought, you can judge all you want.
It’s hard to avoid preconceived notions of
what Jerk in the Can’s third release, Big Crime
Baby, will sound like, based on the grotesque
and overinflated imagery they have built up
for this album, including a video depicting a
grown-up-mutant-baby-guy stealing diapers
from a convenience store, etcetera, etcetera.
However, the understated, minimalist synthesizer
punk Jerk in the Can’s duo create on
Big Crime Baby goes over much more smoothly
than you’d imagine. The eight songs on the
album show diversity in sound, structure as well
as varying sonic ideas.
Out of damp, reverb drenched, bit-crushed
pools of darkness come bouncy analog arps,
cheesily dreamy synth pads and big minimal
drum machine grooves. These elements coat
the clear vocals, which switch from ghostlty
ballads and awkward raps to heavily modulated
screams of agony.
Jerk in the Can showcase a balance of eerie
dream pop — reminiscent of Australia’s HTRK
— that divulges into aggressive industrial noise,
taking direct influence from Skinny Puppy or
early Nine Inch Nails, sprinkled with an aesthetic
suitable for an Insane Clown Posse worship band.
Though that depiction may not be the
intention of Big Crime Baby, and yes, the album
is corny as hell in many ways, the sound of Big
Crime Baby is executed with bizarre precision,
unexpectedly creating brooding cyberpunk
with a lot of room to breathe.
• Michael Grondin
Junior Boys
Big Black Coat
City Slang
A new Juniors Boys release comes as something
of a surprise. Figurehead Jeremy Greenspan
has been hard at work supporting like-minded
artists like Jessy Lanza and Caribou (whose
Jiaolong imprint he contributes solo and collaborative
releases to) with not a word of what
was coming from his nearly 16-year-old band.
Suddenly, we receive Big Black Coat.
The record is frustratingly mixed and without
easy context. Junior Boys already have four
assured releases under their belt and each
was met with a different amount of listener
response and critical acknowledgment. They’ve
been hard to keep track of since 2007’s So This
Is Goodbye, largely because it is the measurable
high water mark for the group.
Where Big Black Coat falls short of reigniting
interest in Junior Boys (for populists or genre
obsessives) is on the minimal pop songs the
group once so excelled at. What do you buy for
the person who has everything? What pop song
do you release that can compete with a gold
standard?
Vocal-reliant tracks like opener “You Say
That,” “No One’s Business” and “Baby Don’t
Hurt Me” cleverly reference but fail to match
the simpler days of the band. Greenspan’s vocals
have always been an intriguing hindrance,
a pre-determined detriment to true pop
achievement. Where the Boys have impressed
in the past is their ingenuity in working around
it, but these three duds are unable to make a
stand-alone case for his neutered approximation
of R&B.
Let’s not dwell on that. BBC has 11 tracks and
many are blue-hot fire. Though intentionally
lo-fi and screechingly synthy (which perhaps
excuses the previously mentioned tracks as
an in-character exercise) it would be hasty to
cry thoughtless ‘80s worship. Greenspan and
Dan Snaith (Caribou mastermind) are close
associates, and their symbiotic house music
nerdship shines in both their latest releases.
The best songs featured on this record take off
from tinny bass lines—in the vein of Frankie
Knuckles’ Chicago—and land confidently on
an untested asset. The Arctic desolation of the
guitar lament on “C’Mon Baby” and the delightfully
mismatched claustrophobia and distance
of club-killer “And It’s Forever” reward the faithful
Junior Boys listener by contrasting tradition
with understated innovation.
The remaining tracks are touched by a signature
Junior Boys cheekiness that offers a familiar
invitation to fans, but little for the newcomer.
It’ll take a few listens and likely some knowledge
on both Junior Boys’ and dance music
history’s highs and lows, but Big Black Coat is
something of an inhospitable treasure.
• Colin Gallant
Jordan Klassen
Javelin
Nevado Music
Jordan Klassen has been touring the Canadian
folk scene for almost long enough to
get completely lost in it, but he’s back with a
glimmering new record, and it is almost really
great. Klassen himself played almost all of the
instruments on the Nevado Music-released
Javelin and produced it himself at Sonic Ranch
outside El Paso, TX, after a recommendation
from Irish songwriter James Vincent McMorrow.
Their relationship heavily informs this
new record. McMorrow’s washy Post Tropical
(2014) shares an immense textural similarity
with Klassen’s new work. To Klassen’s credit,
this approach suits him much better. The clicky
drum track and playful violin, which anticipates
a bird-like female-vocal line on “Gargoyles,” is
nothing short of outstanding. Unfortunately, as
the arrangement backs off at the climax of the
song, we are greeted with Klassen’s less-than-interesting
lyrics. Through this and several other
stunning arrangements, Klassen does his best
to disguise that he is not the most talented
songwriter. He also seems unsure of his vocal
delivery, pulling out a falsetto on tracks like “No
Salesman,” which, while not quite unlistenable,
makes for the least compelling songs on Javelin.
The vocals are at their best when swimming in
and around the songs instead of bubbling on
top, this works best in the single “Baby Moses,”
wherein the most prominent melodies come
from the baroque-tinged string section. This
track also features a weird-but-wonderful solo
from, either a guitar that has been modulated
to sound like a horn, or the inverse. Javelin is
fantastic listening while doing something else
— a something else that takes up enough brainpower
to avoid over-thinking Klassen’s lyrics.
• Liam Prost
Mammoth Grove
Suncatcher
Self-Released
Harvesting solar rays since the appearance
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