Hooks: Figurines have 'em. Hooks everywhere. Hooks in droves. Looking back, though, it's not so much the hooks themselves that powered their mid-2000s breakthrough, Skeleton, but the propulsive, nearly punkish speed at which the Danish crew blew through them. A song like "The Wonder"-- with its slightly sour, constantly shifting melody and singer Christian Hjelm's vocal-- was seemingly in danger of losing its center, held together by sheer forward motion. Their latest, the self-titled Figurines, could benefit from some of that old pep; the spiny hooks are still there, but you'll have to sort through an overly fussy batch of arrangements to get to them.
2007's When the Deer Wore Blue found Figurines tempering their furious rhythms and tarting up their creaky tunes with somewhat symphonic psych-pop flourishes, to its detriment. The songs were adequate, but the adornments and sluggish pacing weighed them down. Figurines marks a partial return to the get-up-and-go of Skeleton, although the tempos have slowed some and the tunes are decidedly less direct. They've still got a distinctive sense of melody, all these odd angles and unlikely harmonies. And the band-- now a three-piece after a couple lineup shakeups-- are inventive arrangers, coloring in their knotty late-90s American indie rock-indebted sound with hints of country-rock, ornate British psych, and lots more. But post-Skeleton, they've grown overzealous in the studio, their zig-zag vocals and too-busy-by-half adornment dampening the impact of the songs.
Take "Free Today", the album's highlight; its lilting melody and Hjelm's clear-as-day vocal seem practically radio-ready until he spikes the stellar chorus with a completely superfluous "ay-yai-yai." Or the jaunty "Every Week", all dressed up in strings, bells, and swirling harmonies forced to duke it out for space with the already busy melody. Figurines' records are full of these unusual turns, but there's far too many this time around, and the constant detours leave the record feeling jerky, its melodies muddled. Vocal lines bend so often many lose their shape, and excessive instrumental textures distract as often as they dazzle; these songs just attempt to do way too much in their three minute spans, and it's enough to leave one longing for the clean lines and fiery feel of Skeleton. And the lyrics don't help matters; Hjelm's have never been a focal point, but Figurines' mark-missing stabs at cleverness like "I love her like a lover should love her," often placed in the songs' pole positions, tend to stick in your craw.
So Figurines is a record of good ideas running counter to themselves; not a disappointment, exactly, just a bit of a jumble. It shoots for melodic knottiness but catches itself in its own tangles. It's never boring, and there's certainly plenty to wrap your ear around. But these sweet songs just feel like they would've been better served by either pulling back or revving up, not the slathering on that takes place here. Hooks, Figurines got; if only they could've let them be.
