Finally, a pretentious art rock band you can sink your teeth into.
We Are Wolves sounds like every other garage band to emerge from the woodwork the last few years, at least during a perfunctory first listen. But they manage to pull a few interesting musical tricks out of what are surely very tight sleeves.
Their latest album, Non-Stop Je Te Plie Duex, covers a wide spectrum of styles, ranging from early '90s grunge Ö la Sub Pop Records to electronica courtesy of what appears to be an old Roland keyboard. A fairly strong Fugazi influence reveals itself on some of the long instrumental pieces that dot the album.
The album commences with a fairly standard rock tune mildly reminiscent of Nirvana outtakes minus the manic-depressive dynamics shifting.
The bass line possesses a medium tempo swagger that meshes well with the repetitive but admittedly catchy guitar riff that comes coursing through a thick wall of murky distortion - a quick glance at their Web site failed to produce any evidence of an actual guitar player, but nonetheless, it sounds like there is a guitar being played in there somewhere.
Drums seem to be supplied at least in some part by the keyboard, giving the song an electronic tinge which plays nicely off of the old-school chorus and distortion pedal-driven bass and guitar work.
This heavy, lo-fi sound coupled with tinny on-board drum loops sets the tone for most of the album.
And it works reasonably well. Too often, rock music gets overproduced and comes off sounding soulless and artificial. We Are Wolves avoids this technological pitfall, setting a dirty underwater mood that could provide the soundtrack to a slow yet panicky descent to the bottom of the ocean, cement shoes preventing any toe-wiggling whatsoever.
And that is not to say it is slow or meandering. The songs are by and large mid-tempo with quirky but not overly bouncing melodies.
The largely unintelligible, grainy vocals drag the instrumentation down somewhat, reducing the quality of the album as a whole. They start off with standard whiny pining over girls - true, the singing is muddled under a blanket of distortion rendering it all but indecipherable, but since pretty much all esoteric rock lyrics tend to lean toward girls and the problems that accompany them, we will just assume that is what is being discussed.
The vocals sometimes change moods, veering into the realm of the raspy-voiced chain-smoking guitar slinger. Other moments evoke the call-and-response type of audience baiting found on mainly hip-hop albums.
At best the vocals are inconsistent and vaguely irritating. At worst they detract significantly from what is a fine instrumental album.
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Fortunately, half of the album is unfettered with vocals, allowing the musicians to focus on their instruments.
The resulting compositions straddle the fence between rock 'n' roll and trance music, starting off with swaying, pulsing bass lines mostly unaccompanied and then progressing, additional elements slowly joining the fold, sludgey guitar coming along for the ride.
Occasionally, these unsung tracks remind the listener of older Fugazi albums, such as In on the Killtaker and Steady Diet of Nothing, which contain sizable instrumental breaks before Ian MacKaye initiates his verbal hissy fits. In fact, much of the singing is reminiscent of Guy Picciotto, Fugazi's second vocalist. So it is no mystery where these guys draw much of their inspiration.
