Junior Boys - Last Exit

Genre dance Publisher Domino External Links Junior Boys Domino Records

I've been listening almost constantly to this album since I got it, but I haven't really gotten it, if you know what I mean. It was the subtle melodies and a slight two-step vibe that nudged it out of the realm of pastiche. Which is great, but my inability to find the key to the Junior Boys was getting on my last nerve. I was about to write them off, out of sheer frustration, as mere inscrutable Canadians, when the Thing That Needed to Happen happened. I was kicked in the butt, as they say, by love. By useless love for a boy who is, as they also say, emotionally unavailable. In fact, so emotionally unavailable was he that he would forget we had dates.

After one such disappointment (to put it mildly), I trudged home and played sad music to which I could wallow while I obsessed. Eventually I pulled out the Junior Boys album, remembering it wrong, thinking it would be lighthearted enough to pull me out of the trough of self-pity. I was so wrong I started crying afresh.

This album is a timeline of love. The Junior Boys have nailed the bipolar nature of the standard relationship so perfectly I feel as I had been stalked while stalking the object of my affection. "More Than Real" is, in fact, a straight-up stalking song. Against a slithery backdrop, Jeremy Greenspan details the lengths he's gone to in order to meet his beloved. "Tonight I've got your number/I even know the street/If you could only need me/I know we're meant to meet." He ends the chorus almost resignedly-"you'll make me feel more than real"-as if he knows that his fantasies will never play out the way he hopes they will. Even the music quiets a little, as if feeling Greenspan's shame at admitting his feelings. "Bellona" is tentatively sprightly, less wordy that "More Than Real"- the object is now the subject. With his goal realized, he's left almost speechless. "You know the days are getting longer." The next few tracks reveal the dreary details involved in keeping love alive-trust, insecurity, et cetera. Slowly Greenspan's voice becomes more deadpan, but the music becomes more urgent. Beats skip like his heart skips, almost afraid to make a sound for fear of ruining everything, betraying the fragility underneath the sang-froid. That doesn't last long, though. After a little breather in instrumental track "Neon Rider," "Birthday" ratchets up the pain quotient. The yearning in Greenspan's voice is palpable, the beats insistent, saying everything they'd been holding back before. (Who would miss this boy's birthday? You know he's got the stalker skills. Don't make him use them against you! ) Oh, and did I mention that you can dance to this? Of course you can.

This album is almost unlistenable, and I mean that as the highest compliment. "Teach Me How to Fight," sung from the inevitable end of the affair, lopes along benignly, but once again the vocals betray the kind of suffering that can turn love to violence. "When I'm Not Around" exudes a resignation much different from that displayed on the first track. "Don't let my feelings show," Greenspan sings, knowing that it is impossible for him to do so, and that the inevitable rollercoaster will begin again as soon as he's ready. I know that the same holds true for me and for anyone else who listens to Last Exit, cringing with the shock of recognition. I will never figure out love. But, on the plus side, I have figured out the Junior Boys.