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Why, Grandma, What Big Grooves You Gots (We Are Wolves, Mercury Lounge)
The wolf parade keeps coming: Another week, another Canuck outfit lugging a lupine label. This week it’s Montreal’s We Are Wolves, and while they’re not going to change anyone’s life, they’ve got beats big enough to bang your head to.
Which was exactly what I needed, last night.
Their New Music Canada profile lists Liars as an influence, and that’s not a bad place to start when describing the WAW sound: They’ve got a similar unkempt vocal bark, the same post-punk bite, the same free-range experimental urge as that Brooklyn band. I imagine that, just like Liars, a lot can depend on your mood: Either it’s all primal and perfect... or a meat thermometer in your ear.
But that NMC profile also lists Rick James. They’re a lot more accessible than Liars ever want to be; often it’s okay to stop worrying and just love the beat. Dance-punks should find a lot to like here, as should fans of Toronto’s DFA1979: The trio is, for the bulk of its show, bass-drums-keys, and even when lead Alex Ortiz switches from bass to guitar most of the sound stays in the lower register; often, the only thing that hovers over the sonic sludge is a quivering maraca.
And then – live, at least – “Little Birds” came off as so New Wave it begged the Q, “Are we not men?” and the A, “We Are Wolves!”
But more is definitely more, in their case. The call-and-response of “L.L. Romeo” didn’t work too well; waiting on words was a waste of time: The song exploded when its funky keyboard part took over. In general, whenever any part of the band had to stop and make room for anything – vocals, a solo riff, whatever – it hurt the cause. Whether they’re going with or against each other, they’re better when everybody is simply pounding away.
Language was an amusing problem. Ortiz is from a Columbian family that emigrated to Quebec, and exudes an odd mix of Frenchie fey and Latin macho; although after the show he was effusive and communicative, on stage he slipped – inadvertently, it seemed – from French to English to Spanish. He struggled to explain that the title of their debut CD – Non-Stop Je Te Plie en Deux (released in the U.S. by Fat Possum, of all people) – was meant to be translated as “bend you in half (in a sexual way).” Introducing “T.R.O.U.B.L.E.” he offered, “‘Trouble’ is the same in French as it is in English. So when you’re looking for trouble, you’re being bilingual.” Keyboardist Vincent Levesque – who wore a short scarf, ascot-style – struggled to share a joke about the Serge Gainsbourg song “New York – U.S.A.” The intro to “We Are All Winners” sounds like a “Wild n’ Crazy Guy” parody of a foreign accent.
They entered carrying hula-hoop-sized dreamcatchers. Huh?
Just let the beat do the talking. When Ortiz announced that “La Nature” was about “teenagers, bats, and anthropology,” it made one stop: These songs are about something? It really doesn’t matter what Ortiz says – and most of the time he’s not saying anything, he’s bleating and howling into the mic – the energetic lead is best when bashing his bass (a maraca shattered against his guitar) or swiveling around on his boots. At one point their stand-up drummer, Antonin Marquis, started angrily slapping his cymbals open-handed. Levesque, not content to lay on his keys (and despite having control of the synth-beats the band played to through much of their set) has a drum of his own.
They’re playing Pianos tonight; it’s the perfect way to shake some of those extra Thanksgiving pounds off. They’ll be back in NYC to play Sin-é on 12/17. Other dates are here.
Expect a short set: Last night’s came in under an hour. Though the loosely-packed crowd called for an encore, the band apologetically held up their hands and explained that they didn’t have any more material.
*
Here’s a sign they’re a great live act: The house played McLusky Do Dallas before their set, and the Wolves won me over despite my sudden craving for live Welsh punk.
Their CD has some filler, but is a good listen. There are a pair of songs on their myspace page; two others on New Music Canada.
And here: One of my favorites, the driving instrumental Vosotrous, Monstruos (mp3).
* Though I intermittently enjoyed openers Mixel Pixel – it would be nice if the band decided whether they were a joke or not. Projected images of video games and B-movies covered the band – which performed behind a stetched-out gauze screen while they bleeped and blurted. There was some good guitar work, some awful vocals, bouncy synths and ridiculous white hooded jumpsuits. Halfway through their set, though, a sudden turn into trippy seriousness needed, at the very least, some sort of segue. * It’s the end of the year, and some music bloggers have been stretching their list-making muscles before the whole end-of-the-year best-o-fest. Information Leafblower started the whole thing by surveying a gaggle of U.S. sites about the “Top 40 Bands in America Today.” This was followed by I (Heart) Music’s “The 33 Hottest Bands in Canada” and Take Your Medicine’s “The UK’s Hottest 47 Acts”. The Canadian list – and the ongoing comments thereabout on Brooklyn Vegan’s site – is especially eye-opening as to the undermined riches of our northern neighbor. There are, as to be expected, a bunch of Arts-Crafts-supported outfits. But Ninja High School (“Welcome to our awesome web site”)? Final Fantasy? My favorite new find so far – mentioned by BV, who saw them at CMJ in 2005 AND 2004 – is Magenta Lane, who sound like a YYY-generation Blondie. Go to the bottom of their site and click “Launch Jukebox” to hear their whole EP. A full-length from them is due in February. And, hopefully, a tour. * Just as you were starting to sort out all your wolf bands, here come the snakes. Sure the Hot Snakes hung it up earlier this year... but Canada’s got The Deadly Snakes who’re coming to Pianos in a couple weeks, just a couple days after Philly/Jersey-boys Snakes and Music are there. And then there’s the Seattle-based garage band Charming Snakes, who – if nothing else – have easily got the best name of the lot.