Strange reality these "Frog Eyes": 4 members guitar-bass-drums-keyboards, with 3 albums and several EPs, collaborations with Destroyer, Wolf Parade, and other representatives of the Canadian indie scene.
Their distinctive feature lies in the uniqueness of the voice of the frontman Carey Mercer, which is essentially that of David Bowie imitating David Sylvian, but which immediately gives way to an agitated street preacher from a slightly acid cabaret. Even his way of using it, this blessed voice, is out of the usual schemes: neurotic, declamatory, with sudden incursions into falsetto, yet warm, never psychotic, never annoyingly querulous like some "mannered" indie music has accustomed us to hear (any reference to those clapping hands and saying "yeah!" is purely coincidental).
Built on the use of guitar parts opened by piano melodies, "extemporaneous" drums, and a certain linearity of movement that manages to fit perfectly with the total obliqueness of the singing, the music always remains intense and captures the listener's attention, launching them into an "other" world to let themselves go. This is not music aimed at entertainment, not in the way we are accustomed to, but it sneaks into the consciousness from the first listen, even though it is initially difficult. Undoubtedly, the approach to this album allows for few distractions, as the whole is anything but background music. It is difficult to navigate through the cryptic lyrics that evoke a fantastic imagery made of escape and disorientation, often delivered in a paroxysmal stream of consciousness.
This album was released in 2003, but was then reissued in 2006, enriched with material: a quick listening map to frame the work includes the opening "One In Six Children Will Flee In Boat", "Time Destroys Its Plan At The Reactionary Table", "Miasma Gardens", "A Latex Ice Age".
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
03 Masticated Outboard Motors (03:21)
What is a city without lines?
A forest floor with some children that don't work no more
I am the bush that peeks through blinds
Don't fall behind, rain makes the sheets
For high-tide bakers who bake fancy cakes for magistrative sensitives
And anyone who is for the disconnective gestures of the frontline blue blood pedlars
Sign off, their mothers are boars
Hold the lines, the ferries are sinking
Set upon, wait, your face
I fought the radar
Isle of Paul, the backs are breakers
Anyone you're thinking of?
We come from cities
We built the cities
What is a charter without maids?
While the beaches are cold
Set the branches so they burn like gold
And bold sensations for the broken home urchins
Buy their shells, I thought about it
Ferries and bowlers and maybe we're headed for the bottom
Frozen lake, love and sons of divorce
I feel my kind is beating blood upon night's door
What for, dear?
Tell me what for
Hold the lines and blow your feathers
Ripe for the birthing
I fought the radar
The city you live in is a magistrative nightmare
Famous lakes
We burnt the back seats
Oh mastication, we hate the front lines
05 A Latex Ice Age (03:37)
what's california?
with them streams, and their creeks.
running down, down to the sea.
ohoh, let me see.
a latex ice age
descended the pint-sized children
and fathers of the land
though the ice is repulsive to them
when the winter, it bloody clings
and the summer, it moves long
so, hit the road and hit the wrong
come along: my bait's all right
make one famous, make next sick
upon my collar i'll feel your prick
row the poly with the poly
i really need you
because there's HOLEY woods
and there's holy creeks
and there's love in the limbs
and love in the treetops.
"they will rise to greet occasions."
they will run from the falling apart
they will rise from great occasions,
and they will run from falling apart.
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