| REVIEWS |
The
Weakerthans
Reconstruction Site
(Epitaph)
Contrary to popular belief, we are actually in abundance of
talented song craftsmen. From the low ranged pastures of those
distinctly less cerebral landscapes to our deepest and most
complicated entangling, men and women are at this very moment
creating instrumental structures that will likely move us, shake
us, appease us and upset us. We have those who at their most
inspired, utilize the most unique of object collections –
bending their resonance into compositions that are not only
individually fascinating; but are capable of evoking the deepest
of thoughts in comprehending these atypical results. They are
the troubadours of musical creativity; musicians who stray away
from textbook arrangements and recognized sounds and in the
end, fracture previous conceptions of genres and styles. Then
there are those who keep within our commercial boundaries, crafting
accessible pop numbers that become the accompaniment of moving
pictures and that whistling walk down the street. While certainly
not overly creative, they too possess the faculty to influence
and sway.
The Weakerthans fall into the latter category in most points.
Their collective sound tends to range between alternative-country-pop
and prairie rock, never being too challenging but grasping at
our most organic of inclinations. It is however, not the attribute
in which they excel in; no, that one glaring asset lies in their
lyrical virtuoso John K Samson; their champion of wandering
spontaneous prose. It would be of no surprise if in some way,
the nomadic undercurrent that wavers through Reconstruction
Site was derived on some cross country voyage with the
Neal Cassadys of the world, toting Ginsberg and Thomas Wolfe.
If the vast endless roads and grasslands could be translated
into today’s musical offerings, The Weakerthans would
be the direct result. It has always been that way, at least
for Samson. During his Propaghandhi days, while Chris Hannah
spoke of McCarthyism, dead fascists and homosexuality, Samson
penned tunes about small town alienation and regrets; and his
keen observational eye has not lost a step since staving off
the staunch political jibe. And his musical sense, while a small
step behind, is remarkably adaptive to his drifting wisdom.
It is fitting in a way that while his words invent so intricately;
“I’m afloat / A float in a summer parade / up the
street in a town that you were born in / With a girl at the
top wearing tulle / and a Miss Somewhere sash / waving like
a queen”, the accompanying sound naturally eases itself
into the lyrical meditation. In the track “Reconstruction
Site”, the gentle guitar pulling and the cozy bass line
plots the travelogue while those reflective lines do most of
the driving. It is this sort of hand-in-hand partnership that
best connects the listener to the music in its entirety; one
that prevents the sort of stagnation that comes with sounds
of flurrying experimental direction. Nonetheless, it is noteworthy
to point out that there has been some level of creative flat
lining since their last disc, Left and leaving (2000).
Their previous effort snaked so charmingly across the folk/rock/country
vista, stopping at certain intervals to bask in the glow of
loungesque garage sale wonderment (“Everything Must Go!”),
modest spoken word beating (“Without Mythologies”)
and a sense of exploration (musically) that stretched from the
tundra to the swampy marsh lands.
Reconstruction Site is far less adventurous in regards
to its instrumental assembly; credit the higher production value
if you will, but nevertheless, the seemingly level plain in
which they skate on presents the text in a greater connecting
tone – a chime those searching for musical refinement
will undoubtedly hear. From the unfussy rock of “The Reasons”
to the uber bouncy “Our Retired Explorer (Dines with Michel
Foucalt in Paris, 1961)”, anyone seeking connectivity
within the music will grasp at its accessible foundation and
truly itinerant sense.
In the instances where they do become musically restive, they
do so with much less vigor than previous outings. “One
Great City!” is an endearing folky stab at the city of
Winnipeg, with delicate strings-a-twinkling, it is about as
musically artful as this album gets. However, it does bear the
comic verse “The crowded riders’ restlessness enunciates
that the Guess Who suck / the Jets were lousy anyway / The same
route every day / And in the turning lane, someone’s stalled
again”.
Reconstruction Site isn’t the mark of artful
splendor, but it does continue the Weakerthans’ quest
to forever travel the meandering conduits of personal freedom
and observational exploration. If anyone were ever to forward
the cause for written spontaneity and a freshness for inspirational
description, John K Samson would be our lonesome scribe. And
for those seeking a companion for their favorite “road”
book, the music of The Weakerthans is that cross-country trip
you yearn to take over and over again - a bona fide sound for
that timeless vision.
Reviewed by
Billy Maulana
September 22nd, 2003 |
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