Every now and then, a band comes along that wrestles the staples of genre classification and provides listeners with a refreshing sense of ingenuity and intrigue. With the release of their second album, "Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?" Montreal's the Unicorns have affirmed their position as such a group.
The Unicorns invent music that capitalizes on both the basics of standard indie punk and the intricacies of progressive rock. The sounds of "Hair" are as much lo-fi pop as they are disco, with a psychedelic sensibility lost somewhere in the mix. From sappy funeral anthems to mindless whistle tidbits, the album demonstrates an aptitude that few have dared to reach of late. To call this album experimental would be an understatement.
Like almost all solid albums, it takes a few spins of "Hair" to grasp the genius behind it. On first listen, the Unicorns may sound like a Radiohead gone wrong, juxtaposing a variety of instruments in a seemingly foolish manner. Only after several listens does the unique blend of fiddles, accordions and whisper-like vocals make sense.
The initial confusion of the music reflects onto the album's cover art as well. Whether or not there is meaning to a lightning-pierced rainbow figure remains unclear, but like all other Unicorn concoctions, it is food for thought.
"Hair," in a broad sense, is a mystifying journey through an abyss of silliness. Though solid on the whole, its unusual mix of somewhat clashing music styles often prompts one to question the band's seriousness. The album opens with "I Don't Want to Die," an eerie, keyboard-driven tune akin to the sounds of a latter day Beck. Far from being the most powerful introduction ever devised, the song unveils the synth-covered vocals and overall raw production standards that saturate the rest of the album's 12 tracks. "Ghost Mountain," employs a distorted drum machine as its primary rhythm device, showing off the Unicorns affinity for experimentalism. Once the piano and organ delve into the mixture, the song amounts to the most brilliant video game theme song of recent times.
Straying from the general course of the record is "The Clap." With a retro, White Stripes-like feel, the song provides a breath of fresh air from the overwhelming barrage of noise that precedes it. The only negative is its short length, but that is pardonable. In all, the song captures the Unicorn's knack for creating mastermind music, even when stripped of any complexities. Following suit is the album's self-gratifying ninth track, "I Was Born (A Unicorn)." A simple four-chord pattern of guitar arpeggios bolsters this song, whose theme revolves around rejection and disbelief. Magical topics pervade the disc entirely, as denoted by peculiar song titles like "Jellybones," "Tuff Luff" and "Inoculate the Innocuous."
Lacking on the Unicorns most recent release is a commanding vocal flair, which at times seems both compulsory and appropriate. From start to finish, the band exercises shared microphone duties between members Nicholas Diamonds and Alden Ginger, whose singing capacities do not always adjust themselves to the shifting cadence of the songs. With the exception of "The Clap," the record's vocal display is a bit stagnant, absent of any emotional punch and drier than anticipated or wanted.
For all its pure inventiveness, "Hair" deserves laud and recognition. The Unicorns are well on their way towards bigger and better things, so long as they continue to defy conventional underground molds in seamless, distinctive ways. The album is nothing short of a hefty launch pad for a band that is sure to see bright things in its future. Do yourself a favor and check them out tomorrow, when they perform alongside heavy-hitters Hopesfall, Engine Down, Pretty Girls Make Graves and a host of other incredible artists.