Much of the coverage of recently-formed Minneapolis art-rockers Poliça has centered around the generous amounts of Auto-Tune applied to the vocals of the group's frontwoman, Channy Leaneagh. Typically, this would be a fairly strange fixation, considering the extent to which the likes of Bon Iver and jj have already made Auto-Tune plenty safe in the indie rock landscape. However, Leaneagh happens to have been lead singer for the late Twin Cities roots-pop outfit Roma di Luna, where the entrancing purity of her smoky pipes was very much front-and-center. With that in mind, it's understandable fans of that band's earnest, organic sound would be bemoaning Leaneagh's acceptance of such technological mediation.
Leaneagh herself, however, seems to be savvier, explaining in an interview with CultureMap Austin during this year's SXSW that, "From my perspective, I am trying to meld into the three other band members and the music we're making and create a force between us that is cohesive and captivating." As part of Poliça, Leaneagh not only isn't the unvarnished centerpiece of the group's music, she's arguably its least dynamic performer. Which isn't to suggest she's not important-- quite the contrary, Leaneagh is surprisingly the constant around which Poliça's compellingly changeable music flows. Roma di Luna may have posited her as a relatively straightforward chanteuse, but her role within Poliça calls to mind far more interesting descriptions, like "Fiona Apple fronting TV on the Radio" or "A heavily digitized Norah Jones atop Radiohead at its most polyrhythmic."
Because while Leaneagh is evenly intoning her vocals, rendered all the more coolly hypnotic by being constantly double-tracked and looped in on themselves, the unorthodox band behind her (keyboards, bass, and, awesomely, two drummers) never seems to stay in one place. Throughout the group's debut effort, Give You the Ghost (produced by Gayngs mastermind Ryan Olson), the rhythm section in particular is afforded a fluidity and freedom typically only witnessed in jazz or funk spheres, the bulbous basslines and restless drums following their own whims rather than the dictates of pop-rock convention. The entire album adheres to this formula, making it an exceedingly seamless listen, though there are standouts-- "Violent Games" is propelled by especially mad percussion, the catchy "Dark Star" really does sound exactly like Apple returning to Cookie Mountain, and "Lay Your Cards Out" approaches trip-hop levels of exquisite dankness.
My only real complaint is that the physicality of the bass and drums could have been emphasized to an even greater degree-- while your ear is constantly drawn to the rhythm section's permutations, Leaneagh's voice sits perhaps a bit too prominently in the mix, and the exhilarating wildness of the drumming is often suggested rather than truly felt. Judging from her description of Poliça's music as a democratic blend of compelling moving parts, however, it's likely Leaneagh wouldn't mind a little further encroachment, not when the inaugural results are already so exciting.
