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$14.99 CD
$14.99 LP
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SLEATER-KINNEY
The Woods
(Sub Pop)
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"The Fox" |
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"Jumpers" |
Maybe you've heard the buzzing rumors, and I'm here to tell you
that they are all true. Seven albums in, and Northwest pop-punk
heroes Sleater-Kinney have made a sharp left turn and delivered
the best, weirdest, heaviest album of their career. I'm told that
when the band jumped ship from Kill Rock Stars to super-indie
Sub Pop, they began casting around for a producer who could help
them shake up expectations on their new LP, and met with Dave
Fridmann, the talented board-op behind the now famous orch-pop-psych
sound of the Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev's last few records,
as well as many other new classics. As the story goes, Fridmann
told the girls that he pretty much hated all their albums, best
known for a thin, intense two guitar interplay, frenetic drumming,
and Corin Tucker's manic tremolo Jello Biafra vocal style. Despite,
or perhaps because of, that bitter come-on, they agreed to retreat
to Fridmann's Tarbox Road Studios in upstate NY to explore some
new ideas, and the rough and raw beauty of The Woods was
born.
Those familiar with Fridmann's resume might be expecting a produced
pop masterpiece, replete with strings and horns and bubbling organs
to compliment the hooks and energy that have always made Sleater-Kinney
so exciting on stage. But from the opening guitar explosion, that
will no doubt make you double check your player to confirm that
you are hearing the right record (and then will force you to either
crank the volume or turn it down right quick, depending on the
hour and your neighborly attitude), it's clear that this is a
new direction for both band and producer. I'd be shocked if you
are not glued to the speakers for the remaining 10 tracks.
Raw, loose, impassioned and powerful, The Woods showcases
a band who, against all probability, has continued to grow artistically
through the most common onset of rock and roll maladies--namely
success, age, and the dreaded family responsibilities (there is
a baby or two waiting on the tour bus these days). The playing
is intense, with pounding grooves (alternately rock solid and
hypnotically off-kilter), and dense, overloaded guitars swooping
and crashing and buzzing all over the place. Tucker's vocals still
have that manic warble, but she and Carrie Brownstein sing both
sweet and dirty throughout the disc, and Fridmann lets the powerful
playing lead the way, often leaving Tucker shouting in the wind
of her own amplifier, to intoxicating effect.
To be completely honest, I'm not 100% sure that all of Sleater-Kinney's
longtime fans will be completely thrilled by the band's explorations.
Although much of their trademark sound is still intact, with hypnotic
guitar interplay, powerful, idiosyncratic vocals and thoughtful,
intelligent and poetic lyrics, there is no doubt that the band
has stepped out on a limb here, and an artist that is this popular
would be defying the laws of physics (and probability) if we all
followed them out there. But the band has made a primal, heartfelt
statement, and in the end I'm confident that most of their longtime
fans, as well as many new ones, will be moved. The rumors are
true; Sleater-Kinney has made the best album of their career.
[JM]
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