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Friday 2 March 2012

Paralytic Stalks - of Montreal (ALBUM REVIEW)

Eight seconds of silence opens Paralytic Stalks, and one can’t help but think this was a stylistic choice; an eight second void of nothing to separate it from LPs and EPs past. Then Kevin’s unmistakable voice, recognisably tracked and echoing robotically, almost androgynous in its tone, explodes from a barrage of drums and synths. “You are what parasites evolved from,” it creaks. Buckle your seatbelts kids, it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

Those familiar with of Montreal will know they are a band that have been constantly evolving since their 1997 début Cherry Peel. That album was an indie-pop gem, and of Montreal burst on to the scene with a group of LPs in the late nineties that perfectly demonstrated their Beach Boys/ Beatles influenced brand of twee-pop, such as the 1998 concept album The Bedside Drama: A Petite Tragedy and the grandiose The Gay Parade. Those unfamiliar with of Montreal, however, would be excused  if they were to assume that any track from 2007s Hissing Fauna, Are You Destroyer? and the three albums that followed it were from a completely different artist altogether. That however is not the case; the Prince influenced funk present on the latter half of the aforementioned Hissing Fauna and the sex-crazed Bowie influenced glam-rock of the concept-driven Skeletal Lamping (2008), as well as the beautifully orchestrated combination of the two present on 2010s False Priest, is all the work of frontman Kevin Barnes.

The last three full-lengths in of Montreal’s catalogue have dipped in and out of the somewhat destructive relationship between Kevin Barnes and his long time partner Nina Twin. He name checks her on Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse, and the gargantuan 12 minute album-splitter The Past Is A Grotesque Animal on Hissing Fauna chronicles their meeting, their problems and their eventual break-up. This is important to note when analysing the words and themes of Paralytic Stalks, because Barnes returns full-circle to what he started on Hissing Fauna, name checking Nina a bunch of times and returning to all together more deep, emotional and bitterly personal lyrics.

But that’s enough context; of Montreal have changed a lot since Cherry Peel and Paralytic stalks is a deeply personal record. Now for the actual review.


“To be dead is to be confused/ to be mistaken” - Kevin Barnes’ pseudo-metaphysics is  charming on album opener Gelid Ascent. What does it mean? I don’t know. Does Barnes know? Probably not.Gelid Ascent is less about the words than the rest of the album and much more about the sheer atmosphere Barnes is creating; tonnes of reverb and massive, thudding drums that really drive this track along. Everything is carried on a wave of distortion, and Barnes’ snarling vocal delivery is completely in sync with what the music is conveying – a frustration and anger that hasn’t really been seen on an of Montreal record before, certainly not at such a personal level, but that is about to be showcased again and again on the tracks that follow. Then the vocals fade off into the distance, as though Barnes is carried away through the waterfall of noise and the instruments trudge on, until they seem to merge into one thin wave of sound that fades out rapidly.

“It’s fucking sad that we need a tragedy to occur to gain a fresh perspective in our lives.” That it is Kevin, that it is. The anger is carried across Gelid Ascent onto the second track, Spiteful Intervention, where Kevin’s delivery is just as frustrated in the first few lines. As he sings, the words distort and the music crackles slightly, as though the track can barely contain his snarls. What has him so angry you might ask? Well, Spiteful Intervention is a relaying of sorts, a relaying of his feelings and the physicality of the arguments he and Nina have had over the past few years.“The rancour of our last conversation” / “So I…listen to you smashing up my studio again.” The music may sound incredibly schizophrenic, bouncing between harsh whirls beneath distorted vocals to lush, tuneful humming backdropping Kevin’s quieter, lulled melodies within the space of a few lines. The topic matter is anything but. Kevin’s anger, frustration and feelings of victimisation are the centrepoint, and he knows where he stands. The choruses are the stand out section for me, where Kevin screams, almost crying; “I made the one I love start crying tonight and it felt good!”  He hollers these lines out of key and out of tune,  and they are all the better for it. Frank Sinatra or Roy Orbison could chime these vocals in technically perfect fashion, but they wouldn’t be inagrained with an ounce of the feeling Kevin is able to get from pushing his vocal chords to well-past their comfort zone.

Dour Percentage both echoes the past and positively defines the present of of Montreal’s sound. The opening woodwinds and high pitched hums are reminiscent of some of the band’s earlier work, and recall a folky sound much like that of the tight vocal harmony of Fleet Foxes were it more solemn. The harmonised falsetto of the choruses recall the sweet sounds of Electric Light Orchestra at their heights (Sweet Talkin’ Woman and Turn To Stone spring to mind) and the whirling woodwinds and jumpy piano in the background – more traditional instrumentation that really compliments Kevin Barnes’ songwriting style that has been present on the past few LPs – an organic, summery sound.


A distinctly sixties feel dominates the press surrounding Paralytic Stalks.

This sound is present on quite a few tracks on the album. The whispering vocals at the start of We Will Commit Wolf Murder, the jumpy piano and traditional melody of Malefic Dowery, the harmonies and backing vocals that tumble over the refrain at the beginning of Wintered Debts.  It’s prettier, it’s more traditional and it oozes the 60s. It suits the lyrics, too. Kevin Barnes prancing around stage in tights screaming about dragon rape and female erections is all well and good to the funky backing on False Priest, but the music here is much more…grown-up, and so are the lyrics.

I admit to being slightly ambivalent about the latter half of this album, though. The four songs afterMalefic Dowery, all clocking in at over seven minutes, certainly have a lot to offer to this LP. Ye, Renew The Plaintiff is a sprawling mash-up of sounds that acts more like a collection of vignettes than an epic, but the musical parts blend together so well that it’s hard to see where the song could be split without it sounding forced, and so I let it slide. It’s easy to let things slide when it comes to of Montreal, and this song in particular showcases Kevin’s personal lyrics, a side of of Montreal (and music in general) that I love. A masterful, heavy rock intersection about five minutes in is the stand out point for me, where Kevin’s confessions really come into a whole new light as he screams his feelings at his partner, Nina, directly. “Oh Nina, I have become so hateful/ How am I ever going to survive this winter? … I can think of nothing but getting my revenge!” After this, though, the song dissolves into cacophonous noise as the instruments fall away from each other, wailing violins and pounding drums leading the way into the next long track, Wintered Debts. 

This is where of Montreal’s sixties sound springs right out of the music and slaps you in the face. The opening verses of Wintered Debts wouldn’t sound out of place on sixties radio (aside from maybe the acutely fine production quality), and Barnes eats his way through his feelings of anxiety, bitterness and religious dubiousness all in the first few minutes. But now my major gripe with this album comes into play. A good few minutes of wailing violins, discordant piano and distorted synths follow, a sound not unlike that at the end of Ye, Renew The Plaintiff, but all the more annoying because it bridges the gap between what can only be described as two fully fledged songs. Wintered Debts ends on a soothing piano ballad, but for me it is always a struggle listening through that few minutes of noise to get to it. It’s somewhat frustrating, because Paralytic Stalks is probably of Montreal’s catchiest and most accessible record for a long time, so to hear this kind of noise bridging the gaps between two pieces of pop-balladry is like watching Barnes committing commercial suicide. And that’s what he wants. Damn it, Kevin, do you want me to hate you?

Paralytic Stalks is an excellent addition to of Montreal's themed album suite.

Exorcismic Breeding Knife is a heavy sound collage; a mix of textures, sounds, samples and drones. At just over seven and a half minutes, this track has pretty much the same effect as the bridges between pieces on Wintered Debts and the closing track, Authentic Pyrrhic Remission - it’s really doing nothing for me at all.  However, the album ends on a high with Authentic Pyrrhic Remission, not just a musical one but an emotional one, too. Kevin and his harmonising counterparts burst into a sort of celebration of his and Nina’s current state. “I love how we’re learning from each other! / It’s so empowering!” It’s nice to hear Barnes singing his heart out about something that’s not downright depressing, because I hate to hear the little guy hurt.

Overall, this is one fine album, probably the finest from of Montreal since Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?, and it brings enough mind-blowingly great tracks and new ideas to even rival that release. It’s a shame that some of the better tracks on this album are soured by the frantic noise collages, but just like the rampant-sex themes of Skeletal Lamping, they seems to be Barnes’ thing on this LP.

Favourite Track: Dour Percentage 
Least Favourite Track: Exorcismic Breeding Knife
Score: 8.5/10


I’ll be reviewing the new Perfume Genius LP Put Ur Back N 2 It next.