Wiping Off The Dust... Of Montreal's The Sunlandic Twins

I recall meeting Of Montreal in 2006 back stage at the Blind Pig in Ann Arbor. The Sunlandic Twins had debuted via Polyvinyl in April 2005. After questioning bassist Bryan Poole, also The Late B.P. Helium, about how the psychedelic/ synth/ pop band elected their name, he narrated a tale of how Kevin Barnes supposedly used to be a skilled gymnast but devastatingly injured his ankle at Olympic trials in Montreal one year. Shortly thereafter, I discovered the story varied by article and interview. A failed romance with a woman in Montreal is another such explaination.

An upbeat drum machine drives many of the album’s tracks. Cheerful nostalgia valiantly saturates the melody of “Requiem for O.M.M.2.” “I don’t want to make a wake out of my life/ I just have to let you go,” sings Barnes. I can all too well relate to this mantra of ruminating over a romantic ember from the past while taking a momentary gulp of hopeless yearning. In fact, just before I started this review, I swallowed such an instant. The suitor fused to my first monumental heartbreak happened to be courting me during the time I discovered Of Montreal. Memories of how excited I’d be over doing even traditionally mundane endeavors with him like hiking up the road a couple miles to a shopping center ensue. Times we’d walk to the railroad tracks and playfully shoot photos … and that one dewy eyed moment he kissed me ‘just because,’ as sizable snowflakes delicately fell on a January day. Upon falling for my first love, the all too temporary euphoria of my new relationship naturally blinded me to the possibility of romantic finiteness. After all, how could two beings that complimented and flowed together so well conceivably ever pull apart?

Requiem For O.M.M.2

The night of my second Of Montreal live show, I recall excitedly trudging to the end of the Blind Pig line spanning all the way to the railroad tracks behind the venue on that cool Michigan spring night. I overheard grumbles about the Outback Steakhouse commercial featuring a slight variation of “Wrath Pinned to the Mist (And Other Games,)” a tune that begins with a bass line that, for whatever reason, reminds me of sledding. Maracas and other sounds subsequently layer themselves. “Let’s pretend we don’t exist/ Let’s pretend we’re in Antarctica,” which are the song’s original lyrics, were morphed into “Let’s go Outback tonight/ Life will still be there tomorrow.” Multitudinous patrons were convinced the musical ensemble had sold out (while they simultaneously still put forth immense effort to see the band perform.) Certain music moguls rebuttal this scenario with the challenge of full time musicians to make a living in an era or torrents; therefore, artists naturally need to supplement revenue through intertwining their music with commercial interests.

“Forecast Facsist Future” buds with a jubilant and commanding acoustic guitar riff, then mounts on motor-like synthesizers. These sounds almost emulate an aerial vehicle taking off.

Embodying one of my favorite melodies on The Sunlandic Twins, “The Party’s Crashing Us” contains thoughtful lyrics fronting another markedly infectious dance beat. “Oh well we made love like a pair of black wizards/ you freed me from the past/ you fucked the suburbs out of me.” Perhaps the ‘suburbs’ represent desolation and angst that the woman Barnes is having sex with deems herself a rejuvenating retreat from. This reminds me how many students react when moving from dull, empty suburbs to an exciting college town, myself included.

The Party's Crashing Us

Increasingly dim and mysterious compositions spearhead the second half of the album. “Skate 2" is an entirely instrumental track which beams a very pensive, somewhat twisted, undercurrent of minor notes.“Oslo in the Summertime,” which conveys a muggy and sweaty day in a foreign locale, maintains this gloomy buzz. Confusion and hazed clarity tinge the echo-laden air.

Concluding the LP, “The Repudiated Immortals” delivers the heartwarming line, “…Don’t feel sad/ because it’s a violent world/ but there’s still beauty/ I’ll take care of you if you take care of me.” I can’t help but to grin and feel my heart bake in amorous hope for humanity. The album ends by retreating its dimness to optimistic solemness.

The Repudiated Immortals