"Le Loup" means "the wolf" in French. Sam Simkoff, frontman of the D.C.-based indie pop quintet that bears the appellation, claims he chose it to riff on all the other indie groups out there with the word "Wolf" in their names, self-consciously ratcheting up the pretentiousness meter by translating it into another tongue. It's a great joke that shows Simkoff has a keen eye for hipster trends, and his band's music is likewise plugged in to the zeitgeist. In interviews, when asked to tick off influences, Simkoff and his bandmates don't reach for ultra-obscure 1960s cult artists or hyper-ironic mainstream touchstones, but freely list folks like Animal Collective, Sufjan Stevens, and Grizzly Bear. In contrast, for instance, to the glo-fi thing that has seemed to burble up fairly organically this year from various and sundry quarters, Le Loup's music feels like a direct reaction to what indie-rock's A-List has been cooking up over the past couple of years.
You could certainly argue that Animal Collective belongs at the top of this heap as the reigning kings of indie, so perhaps it should be no surprise that AC is far and away Le Loup's biggest source of sonic inspiration on the band's sophomore LP, Family (again demonstrating an impressive feel for subtle shifts in subcultural taste, the group's 2007 debut was far more Sufjan-beholden). All of the most distinguishing AC traits are on display here, as layers upon layers of reverbed harmonies get distorted and smeared atop equally diffuse artilleries of percussion. It's an impossible comparison to shake, especially during a couple of really on-the-nose moments like the cymbal crashes of "Forgive Me" or the watery effects of "Sherpa". If you wanted to be somewhat cynical you could think of this album as a sort of palatable gateway drug for listeners who've yet to stomach Animal Collective's lengthier, noisier, more out-there head trips. Le Loup trade chaos and dissonance for reassurance and tranquility thanks in large part to an abundance of folkier accoutrements like banjo and mandolin, deployed throughout the album and utilized to particularly pleasing effect on the ruminative "Go East" and on "Morning Song", which hints at a recognition of Fleet Foxes' recent prominence.
Even if the overall effect here isn't terribly original, there are still plenty of nice touches spread throughout these tracks to suggest Le Loup holds the potential to become more than an amalgam of well-regarded influences. "Beach Town" rides a full-toned bass and lovely ascending guitar figure, while "Grow" allows "Be My Baby" drums and a general early-60s lilt to pierce through the ghostly murk. Best of all is the closing "A Celebration", which works up a genuine groove and then tantalizingly kisses it with some beautiful guitar glints that alternately evoke Afro-pop and the Allman Brothers. More of this please.
