In some respects Warpaint have been slow starters since forming back in 2004.
While other, lesser acts have already released a clutch of records, this LA quartet have been busy exploring and honing their craft with a constant round of gigging and touring during the intervening years, and are only now releasing that tricky, much anticipated second album – following 2010’s debut ‘The Fool‘ right at the time when there seems to be a notable crop of ‘tre’ cool female fronted acts coming from loosely left field dispositions.
Convenient coincidence?
Warpaint have picked up their sonic tools and, with an experimental adour, struck out with twelve washes of fleeting, psychedelic – and often murky – minimal twinges of ambiance. It has been well documented that, on this album, they have gone for a more organic approach with regards to writing new material; jamming to see what happens from there, rather than constructively, and intentionally, sitting down and studiously writing ‘actual’ songs.
Here, they begin with the imaginatively titled ‘Intro‘, where wonderfully raw, skittish, jazz-inflected drums dominate much of the sound scape, joined by understated guitar slithers, keyboard murmurs and a tattle of background voices. A combination of lo-fi techniques, particularly in relation to the recording of the drums (which sound like they were done in a garage using a few old tinny microphones) and more sophisticated production methods used with the additional instruments and elements make for an interesting, dynamic and refreshing composition.
‘Keep It Healthy‘ is a wonderful sequel, showing what may happen if aspects of Radiohead and Sonic Youth were lightly melded together and framed by the vocals of Rachel Goswell, the angelic voice of 90s shoe-gazers Slowdive.
The general consensus could be that, if the album contained another ten tracks of this calibre, then it would be a sure fire winner. The vocals are enchanting; full, driftingly upbeat, energetic and earthy, painting a topcoat on a tune that is, for all intents and purposes, a lush continuation of similar melodic themes explored in the opener, giving the impression that these two are, almost, one and the same track.
Recent single ‘Love Is To Die‘ is promising, with strains of a more sultry, night time reflection of fey punk rock red-lipstick-smeared sexiness, sounding a little like if Brian Molko stepped down as the frontman of Placebo, hooked Cocteau Twin‘s Robin Guthrie in as producer, and asked Bjork and Courtney Love to take the mic.
However, it just doesn’t quite hit the mark in quite the same way as its predecessors, and seems almost uncomfortable in comparison. Maybe, in the band’s ability to instill such fidgeting feelings of discomfort, this track could be construed as a piece of edgy, artistic genius. However, there are nagging feelings that there is something amiss; an element that wasn’t quite the intention of its authors.
By the same token, the album has periods of shakey ground when exploring the well trodden experimental rock path that this band owes quite a heavy debt to. In these instances, it’s like Warpaint started out on an experimental quest, with a great deal of zeal and zest, but then got lost somewhere in the back of beyond.
‘Disco/Very‘, ‘Feeling Alright‘ and ‘CC‘ are, for all intents and purposes, quite forgettable, but at other times they are right on the money; the almost hypnotic Eighties sample-like key refrain that gently nudges its way into a beautifully wailing drone really makes ‘Biggy‘ work, undercut with fluttering, moot sketches of minimal percussion which shift about softly in the background, topped with siren-like voices which glide through a gentle mix, aiming to softly – but not too softly – drown out the world.
The overall question is – does the good outweigh the…less good?
After all, it is possible that the tunes could, like anything experimental in nature, mature like a fine wine. Also, if the entire album was perceived as being absolutely perfect, there would be nothing for the listener to fight with, no prejudices or pre-conceived notions to overcome.
The audience would remain in a comfort zone, and the Marxist payoff of being an active part of the creative process, without the additional rasp of cerebral blood, sweat and tears, wouldn’t be so rewarding would it?
