Review Summary: The lush discordant tones of 1984 seeped into the skin.
For the better part of twenty years, Joan Of Arc have experimented with the very nuance of definable pop music. Whether it be the whimsically charged
Joan of Arc, Dick Cheney, Mark Twain... or the outright dreamy minimalism that carries
Eventually, All At Once Joan Of Arc have taken what’s considered normally pessimistic and turned into an aural artform for particular minds. Take a wrong turn down an alleyway, stub your toe on the edge of a desk or feel the sting of an unlucky paper cut - the sweet tones of
1984 becomes relatable, but a burden on your soul. Drawing inspiration from an endless and constantly varying chaotic environment Joan Of Arc’s music becomes more accessible, without losing its personal touches that lean towards the experimental.
Instantly, the velvety landscape of “Tiny Baby” reaches towards the vulnerable state of the mind. The minimalism blends towards a contrasting thickness; at complete odds with the simplicity. The track’s opening lines of “I pretend I’m a tiny baby that can’t keep its eyes open” add a haunting sense of subtle macabre, but instead of dipping into the gruesome, tends to ponder, waiting, before immersing the listener. It’s simple, cryptic yet completely satisfying to behold. Melina Ausikaitis’ vocals wrap around a twang and drawl, coaxing the listener from one line to the next. Replacing the seminal stylings of Tim Kinsella is definitely not a placating experience but Ausikaitis’ work in a way that accessibility simply doesn’t. Even the jarring “People Pleaser” takes a freestyle spoken word and admittedly crude vocal lines and transforms them into a titanic interlude from the ever present experimental dream pop that dominates the group’s new record. Phrases as laughable as “stop chicken-***tin' all over your life” are at ends with “Maine Guy’s” stories of awkward sex at grandma’s house, but don’t mean any less when sung over the good grace of sensual dream pop.
Instrumentally,
1984 treads lightly in the way of contrasting sections. Easily the vocal sections manage enough of that. What sets Joan Of Arc’s latest offering above the noise of mediocrity is a emotive grasp of differing proportions depending completely on the mindset of the album’s listener. Yeah, it’s a complete cop out that begs the question not yet asked.
Admittedly, this is not going to be for everyone.
1984 would lose some, if not most of its appeal if the record was accessible by design. Fairly, Joan Of Arc’s newest offering may find itself to be the band’s least mentioned moments, but it’s a travesty of unyielding greatness. There may not be too many “experimental” releases with massive amounts of replay value during 2018’s release schedule but
1984 fluently maintains excellence, revelling in their own brand of dream pop.
