Review Summary: Emo that doesn't want to make a scene
It's quite hard to find much information about No Knife, the San Diego outfit that pretty much never put out a bad album. Is their relatively small footprint a symptom of their character? It's a question I've often pondered, as there's something about Fire in the city of Automatons that feels... unassuming. The production serves the songs well, but it's probably not what you'd expect from a band recording in 1999 that incorporates math rock in their sound - there's almost a conscious decision to shave just a hair of clarity from proceedings. No Knife sound like observers - wallflowers at the edge of the concert or party.
The music is fairly diverse, cycling from indie, math, emo and even more textural elements. The riffs and interplay meld into something melodic, as if someone drew the lines and smoothed the joins with tissue paper. I've always found a strange sensitivity in this album. While I feel bands that play in the emo pool are often looking to create the impact through a soaring note or a break, No Knife play with a sort of kinetic continuity. The flow of songs hint there's something under the surface, but the performers are too controlled or too reflective to simply blurt it out.
It's perhaps this avoidance of the perceived strengths of various styles that maybe prevented them from getting that "big single". There's a high level of accessibility in this music, but it's not reaching for something huge. Even the vocals and songwriting feel very collaborative - there's very little ego on display. The slower tracks have a mysterious, haunting quality but they don't feel necessarily "dark" or overwrought.
The closest to a hit here is probably "Charming", clean strums and harmonies that dissolve into buffets of shaking guitar and deliberate drums. The opening line speaks of walking in the snow, and it does transport me to such a scene - an alpine incline with no footprints yet. Jim Adkins of Jimmy Eat World (the bands apparently toured together extensively) provides delicate backing vocals on the most traditionally crowd pleasing chorus. Even despite this, the song retains enough twists and turns to elevate it beyond a mere emo ballad.
A fascinating counterpoint would be the slow buildup of "The Spy" - hypnotic drums create the impression of conversation while walking, and wall of guitar texture sounds like the pauses. "Academy Flight Song" borrows its title from Mission of Burma's classic, but despite the influence, comes off more warmly - No Knife dip into MOB's more fluid moments, and revisit the staccato angularity of their forebears on "Mission Control". Even the angrier tracks like "Short Term Memory" don't sound immediate - more like a conclusion after a lengthy period digesting some unpleasant truth.
Fire in the City of Automatons might be accused of not playing to the strengths of its constituent parts (not enough aggression, too easy to like while not being easy enough, etc.) while also not being in any way an experimental work. Personally, I love the unpretentious honesty of this record, and the small stylistic choices that go - very respectfully - against convention. I still put it on regularly, and it always rewards me in some way - that's not something I can say often. Thanks No Knife - it's not showy, but it is rich.
