Oh, Lordy, 'tis a rough time for fans of experimental pop. The kind with guitars, anyway. Too many bands can't get over their fascination with the classic rock originators, or worse, their emulation of second-generation bands already over-obsessed with the 60s. The harvest is so scarce, I've been forced to turn to the IDM boroughs, where Max Tundra and Schneider TM are making the best sticky melodies in unusual settings I've heard this leaf-shedding season.
UK band Simian might be an exception to this trend, though, a predominantly guitar-based pop-rock band that somehow doesn't fall easily into my preset compartments. For the first time in a while, I can actually write about such a group without referencing Elephant 6-- um, except for that mention, I guess. The comparison is tempting, however; when my friend first introduced me to We Are Your Friends, he said he'd heard that it was a side project of an Apples in Stereo member. That this wasn't true was pretty clear after one listen-- even the most convention-toeing Simian tracks are far more interesting than any Apples product in recent memory.
We Are Your Friends might not be a completely successful album, but it's rarely less than a compelling one. Simian manages this by embracing musical innovation more recent than Pet Sounds, most notably in their use of computerized rhythm tracks to flesh out the sunshine daydream, leaning more on the sampler than the spacey psychedelics of their debut, Chemistry Is What We Are. Right, sounds like fellow British casserole chefs Super Furry Animals a bit, but Simian strikes me as slightly more devoted to the technological possibilities.
Which means audio surprises abound on We Are Your Friends, providing enough subtle tweaks on a familiar formula to hold attention. Opening track "La Breeze" switches back and forth between Bollywood soundtrack and Britpop anthem like a radio crossing frequencies from New Delhi and London. "When I Go" starts out as an embarrassing stab at country twang, but improves as it moves through lands of loop-assisted organ strut and dense blue-sky harmonies. "In Between" and "The Way That I Live" are set to nervous beats and spooky synths worthy of The Neptunes... well, maybe worthy of The Streets... okay, not even that good, but pretty commendable for a rock band, anyway.
So with a group so obviously full of clever ideas, it's a little disappointing that their songwriting chops don't quite measure up to their bag of tricks. Often I find myself more interested in the computerized embellishments than the songs themselves, and paying attention to the melodies of the schmaltzy "End of the Day" or butterknife-edged "Big Black Gun" is a far less rewarding endeavor. Simian also tends to get a little too jokey in their delivery, a weakness that becomes gratingly annoying in the cartoonish vocals of the otherwise groovy "Helpless" or the awful horror-show lyrics of "Skin".
But stumbles and all, Simian deserves a cap-tip for evolving beyond the more standard psych-pop trappings of their last album into techno-curious territory. They may not quite be able to shake sounding like a rock band dabbling in electronics, but all the same, they remain a good photo-negative counterpart to the lap-pop movement currently sweeping through IDM circles. After all, there's still a lot of unexplored territory between traditional rock forms and computer creations, and We Are Your Friends represents a pleasant, if flawed, expedition into this wilderness.
