Andrew Weatherall may not have produced Jagwar Ma’s second album, Every Now & Then, but his paw prints are all over it. Following tours supporting their debut LP—and a close call with a shark in their native Australia—Jono Ma and Gabriel Winterfield headed to Europe, first to the derelict French sunflower farm where Howlin’ was recorded, then to Le Bunker, the London recording studio of the famed acid house DJ and home to his enormous record collection. “Andrew was in close proximity towards the end,” Ma told Stereogum in a recent interview. “But I think most of the themes and the music had been written by that point, so I don’t think he’s had a direct influence per se.” The adjacency to Weatherall may have been a happy accident, but for Jagwar Ma—whose music is hugely indebted to Madchester and Primal Scream—the overlap is too perfect to ignore.
Weatherall, who co-produced Primal Scream’s Screamadelica and helped forge the “baggy” sound of the 1980s, has served as a sort of musical north star for Jagwar Ma. (Screamadelica, the band has said, is a favorite album and he remixed their song “Come Save Me” in 2013.) In Pitchfork’s review of Howlin’, writer Ian Cohen lauded the carefree aspects of the album, but feared the band's sophomore record might wind up a “‘darker,’ ‘introspective’ and duller sequel.” As it turns out, Every Now & Then is the opposite; rather than turn inward, Jagwar Ma build on their first record’s foundation, going bigger and broader, while continuing to look unapologetically in the rearview mirror.
As with Howlin’, the neo-psychedelic music of Manchester’s club scene remains an inseparable part of the band's sound. Lead single “O B 1” could be compared to the Stone Roses, New Order, and Primal Scream, depending on which YouTube commenter you ask. (It also has more than a little bit of Giorgio Moroder’s driving synths.) As with many songs on the album, the sugary lyrics serve mostly as a conduit for the melody. “You warm me up, you wore me down, I get the feeling now,” sings Winterfield. The song succeeds precisely because Jagwar Ma refuse to take themselves too seriously. Synths shimmer, Whitefield’s voice is studiously mixed, and the drums, courtesy of Warpaint’s Stella Mozgawa, have a hypnotic circularity, but it's all in the service of a good time. Ma has said the track is about “moving through the motions of life under the influence of lost love, the fear of letting go of the past when not having anything set in place in the future to hold on to,” but, in truth, larger themes are secondary to the band’s primary goal of flooding the listener's serotonin centers.
Much of Every Now & Then is anchored by the sound of the Oberheim Two Voice synthesizer, a vintage machine with a compressed, funky zap that Ma bought on eBay. The Oberheim occasionally pushes their sound further into the 1970s, a decade that fellow Aussies Tame Impala know well, and which suits Jagwar Ma’s stadium-sized aspirations. Unlike friend-of-the-band Kevin Parker, however, Jagwar Ma don't have a particular interest in avant-garde experimentalism or pop economy, instead preferring mid-tempo tracks that check the necessary boxes: big hooks, ravey breakdowns, the occasional inspired left turn (see: the Egyptian Lover-recalling electro track “Don’t Be So Hard”). The album's highest highs are, not surprisingly, their most anthemic musically. “Ordinary”—a track that isn't— sees Whitefield’s voice arc like chemtrails across a neon sky. The song combines Britpop excess, the Ibiza dancefloor, and a vintage hip-hop breakbeat all without sounding forced. Jagwar Ma are also comfortable when settling deeper into dancefloor groove. Album closer “Colours of Paradise” embraces a headier form of bliss for nearly six minutes of Balearic house.
Jagwar Ma join a lineage of Madchester acolytes that range from Brooklyn’s Dinowalrus to the Swedish popsters on Sincerely Yours. But part of the allure of Madchester was the constant search for new forms of perception—through sonic experimentation as well as mind-altering chemicals—something that Jagwar Ma’s crate-digging fails to invoke. Every Now & Then is often vivid and enjoyable, but after a few listens, you may find yourself switching back to one of the band’s predecessors. The former is a fun ride, but Screamadelica could still blow your mind.
