The New Pornographers - Twin Cinema

Genre rock Publisher Matador Records External Links Official Website Matador Records

When I think back to those years that offered a rich abundance of great music, inevitably 2000 comes to mind. The first year of the new millennium bore terrific fruit indeed. Idlewild's second album, A Perfect Circle's first, The Marshall Mathers LP, Kid A, Jets To Brazil, Caviar, Coldplay's first, the emergence of Sigur Ros to American shores. And then I think of the crown pop jewel of 2000, The New Pornographers' Mass Romantic, an album absolutely perfect, heartbreakingly so.

It seemed a lark at the time. The only real name in this super group worth a damn in America was the previously pigeon-holed country singer Neko Case. The rest of the band were all Canadian indie-musicians, unknown to even most indie-music fans in the States.

Nothing about this album gave the impression this would be lasting. It was as if this album was dropped by no bigger record label rep than Almighty God himself. Perhaps much the same way we humans began (or so the "red states" would have you believe).

Even the band's subsequent tour was a revelatory celebration. Though more indicative of a fleeting moment rather than a notion of any sort of career trajectory.

So it was with some surprise (to me, at least) that there would indeed be a follow-up to Mass Romantic and its name would be Electric Version. Okay, I was game for another round of blissed out pop genius, why not?

And while the new album didn't quite strike the fire deep within my soul the other had, I managed to come around to this slightly brain-addled sibling. After all, it had its charms. "All For Swinging Around," "From Blown Speakers," and "Testament To Youth In Reverse," among them. More Neko was needed, as was more Dan Bejar, the album was a little overloaded with A.C. Newman for my tastes. Though, as the band's de facto leader, it certainly wasn't a surprise. Not that Newman isn't fantastic (his "Slow Descent Into Alcoholism" off of the first album is a favorite), but that the playing field needed to be leveled a tad.

Now comes Twin Cinema, definite (defiant?) proof that this is no longer a tenuously constructed act, but one with long term goals. Certainly not the same as Simple Plan, but the members would like to build up that retirement fund somehow.

Things start out promisingly enough with the title track. This song rivals the crème' of Mass Romantic. It bubbles with pop effervescence, marvelous vocal participation, and groovy guitar work. This is music that makes me swoon, as only these performers often can. "Bones Of An Idol" is equally impressive, for different reasons. Case's vocal performance, more in range with her own solo work than her previous explorations of new wave infamy, is emotional precision. Again, some fantastic guitar work and a steady back beat provided by Kurt Dahle fleshes this tune out.

A brief time-out, however. Dahle, a fabulous guy who I've had the pleasure of chatting with, a damn fine drummer, and someone who I would raise a glass to if in attendance at a dinner party where he was the guest of honor. That said, his presence as one of the four co-producers on the album may have gone to his head in some way, as the drums, at times, are ridiculously over-amplified and sweetened. In some instances it becomes a distraction, as if someone inserted drum tracks from Staind's latest opus into the New Pornographers' mix. Disconcerting. Tsk, tsk.

"The Bleeding Heart Show" isn't much more than a simple folk song until the angelic chorus kicks in midway. Proof that even the ordinary can be resurrected into the sublime with talented people such as these. One of Bejar's contributions, "Jackie, Dressed In Cobras," and one that references the title and character of a song from the first album, is a theatrically gussied up ball of glam rock colliding with '60s maudlin pop. Bejar's always been the macabre foil to Newman's giddy poptimist, don't you know.

It isn't until after two other excellent tracks, Case's country-tinged "These Are The Fables," and Newman's infectiously silly "Sing Me Spanish Techno," that things start to go awry.

"Falling Through Your Clothes" attempts to make lightning strike twice, re: using the chorus to save the wreck of a song. And Bejar's "Broken Breads" isn't good enough to stop the slide. Besides a really cool guitar part and nifty vocals, "Three Or Four" goes nowhere fast, while "Star Bodies" is DOA.

"Streets Of Fire" and "Stacked Crooked" perk the proceedings up a bit at the end, bringing some semblance of peace to these ears, even though the songs themselves are a bit on the mellow side. "Stacked Crooked" is interjected with fanciful trumpet flourishes, and ghostly backing vocals (nice effect, guys).

Thinking back, it seems I like this album more than I initially thought, at least when stepping back to gain perspective. Hell, I certainly like it more than I did when I first heard it. That first listen pissed me off. Subsequent ones have proved calming as I found more to appreciate, more to love. In all honesty, the same damn thing happened at the beginning of my relationship with Electric Version. I was in love with Mass Romantic and still am to this day, though I don't visit her as often as I should or would like to.

Honestly, any other albums by the New Pornographers, no matter how much they sound like that first one, will never be the same, not really. And with one lonely tear shed, I am sad.