EAR PWR's 2009 debut, Super Animal Brothers III, a neon-lit mess of Devin Booze's synth glitch smeared together with Sarah Reynold's squeaky voice, was a testament to party-ready arrested development. It could also be irritating. As Pitchfork's Brian Howe mentioned at the time, "It's hard to get mad at the fun," but EAR PWR often made it look easy. Fast-forward two years and EAR PWR have relocated to North Carolina and become something of a different animal. Removed from the spazzoid Wham City warehouse scene, the pair almost seem ready to embrace maturity.
Right from the ominous opening synth stabs on "Mountain Home", it's apparent that something is different. Amidst the goth vibes, freaky drum pattern, and weird vocal melody, you know that EAR PWR are making a conscious effort to create serious-sounding music. EAR PWR's sound here feels indebted to the Brooklyn outfit Glasser, with the juxtaposition of tribal drum programming against celestial analog synths (Booze's are homemade) and an ethereal vocalist out front.
For EAR PWR, this evolution is admirable, but it's hard to overlook how clumsy the molting process is. For starters, Reynolds' flat delivery doesn't really work next to Booze's beefed-up (and sometimes inventive) synth work, which itself is often upstaged by his overbearing drums and invasive cymbal splashes. But having Reynolds recede into the background, given some of the awkward lyrics, isn't such a terrible thing. All in all, the record seems thin and unbalanced, its disjointedness revealing how little substance there is here. What's even more frustrating are the sparks of real possibility that keep popping up: "Geodes" pairs the pulse of a tornado siren with twinkling synths and some thrashed-out, forward-tumbling drums; "Lake" is the kind of shy, sexy jam these two should be focusing more of their attention on.
But in context, these more sophisticated reflections are either draggy or misguided ("North Carolina", an ode to the duo's new home, seems meant to be regal and idyllic but sounds more like theme music from The Oregon Trail). EAR PWR were once a band that refused to tie a tie or recite the silly rule-- it could be annoying, but at least they were being themselves. Here, they prove how hard growing up can be.
