Filing Cats in Paris into a nice, neat genre niche may prove difficult, but it's not hard noting they're another band coasting on the recent tidal wave of ADD-afflicted music. Like Architecture in Helsinki, Late of the Pier, and Evangelicals, Manchester's Cats in Paris believe the three-minute pop song belongs to the past and that 21st century music should bombard the senses with the same fury as pop-up ads and RSS readers. No surprise then that debut LP Courtcase 2000 is a labyrinth of an album, its sweet spots barely recouping the cost of having to invest a staggering amount of time listening and absorbing.
Glam rock, electro, and twee feature most prominently on the band's palette, usually in that order. Most of these tracks open with pomp and circumstance, then ease into a smug synth groove before the guy/girl vocal tag team of Sara Beard and Michael Watson sweetens the deal with some start/stop melodies. Armed with a stockpile of instruments and space-age effects, the band pushes a brand of 1980s 8-bit nostalgia that's just weird enough to not sound overly trendy. Single "Foxes" is a rare exception-- its burping NES synths and kewl indie dance swagger totally vie for block party mixtape play alongside CSS and Crystal Castles-- but the track's focused structure serves as a nice changeup from the rest of Courtcase's choas.
Luckily, the band more often sounds cute than hip. The chirpy harmonies on "Castle Walls" feel like Mates of State uploaded into Super Mario Bros., and the strings on "Cold Products"-- even during the song's cacophonous freakouts-- wouldn't sound out of place on a Broken Social Scene cut. At times though, Watson's piercing howl can have the haunting effect of fellow screamers like the Evangelicals' Josh Jones or Kevin Barnes. Often bailing out some of the more nebulous freakout tracks, Watson's shriek dabbles in space glam pathos ("The Curse of Jonah Brian"), twitchy electro anxiety ("Loose Tooth Tactile"), and ethereal indie operatics ("Flame Throwers"), essentially stealing the spotlight from any track that allows his voice to shine.
The problem, though, is that nearly every segment of every track sounds like it's trying to one-up its predecessor and get its shine. Even with long instrumental stretches and unpredictable segues, the album feels like one constant build and demolition after another, and that's just exhausting. Still, there's something to be said for a debut album that so vehemently defies conformity, even if it kinda cuts off its nose to spite its face in the process. If they never do become exceptional, this four-piece should always at least sound unique, and that'll earn you way more spins than the average indie rookie act.
