I used to know what to expect from U.S. Maple. Like a lot of wholly original bands, they'd become ironically predictable: each album had the lurching start/stops, the grim ashen-throat vocals, and the jittery guitars that needled your ears like pipe cleaners. In a world of stagey, contrived avant- and anti-rock, U.S. Maple were one of the few bands that didn't wink at you, and one of even fewer that could fairly claim to "deconstruct" rock music. They'd honed a syntax that fused the obnoxiousness of no-wave and the methodical style of post-rock: the songs were willfully obtuse-- anytime you could make out the lyrics, the words made no sense-- and the pace was so uneven that they constantly threatened to lose all momentum and grind to a halt.
So there's a big surprise when Purple on Time. starts spinning: "My L'il Shocker" kicks off with a melody. And there's a steady guitar line. And the drums play a beat! And then Al Johnson's singing verses!! What?! You're hearing it right: U.S. Maple are actually rocking. It's odd, sure, but U.S. Maple's fifth disc is indeed their most conventional since their first: the one attribute it shares with Talker or Acre Thrills is its sparseness; otherwise, it's ridiculously straightforward, each track landing pretty much where you'd expect any rock song to, and each noisy break and anti-solo getting stuck in a bridge or an intro. You know, where they "belong."
It's hard to guess why the band made this change. You could point to new drummer Adam Vida, who's here on loan from run-of-the-mill alt-country act Central Falls-- he plays the way you'd want, say, some dude in Wilco to play, a solid timekeeper that can handle occasional disruptions, awkward silences, and abrupt returns-- but he could just as easily have come on board after the decision to switch things up (or down, as the case may be) was made. Likewise, Mark Shippy and Todd Rittman's guitars still jerk and lurch, but they're less anxious; at times you even hear traces of slow, Zeppelin-like blues-- and what's with the "Bron-Yr-Aur"-like acoustic interlude near the end?
The most obvious difference is a newfound sincerity, which you can hear in Johnson's singing. He remains indecipherable, twisting, choking and curdling his lyrics, but there's more sentiment leaking out around the edges: sometimes hostile or cussed, he also sounds vulnerable, pleading on "Oh Below", or moaning through "Touch Me Judge" like he's crying at his ex-girlfriend's boarding house window. That tone is even clearer on the band's cover of "Lay Lady Lay": instead of ripping it apart, U.S. Maple give Dylan's classic rock radio staple a shockingly straight reading. The guitars are erratic, but rather than playing games with the song, U.S. Maple struggle like they're pushing a boulder, as if trying to figure out what to say with every note. I swear Johnson's drawl sounds heartfelt, even when he's gibbering. This is a U.S. Maple that's clearly changed their emphasis-- using their damaged syntax to sound honest, sad, and vaguely unreliable-- you know, the stuff you'd look for in ballads.
It's not all grim. There's "Tan Loves Blue", after all, which trampolines ecstatically before wheezing down to the chorus. But end-to-end, you get the idea that U.S. Maple just wants to reduce you to crying into your beer, and that may not be what you're looking for from them. There's no question that this is their most genuine and (let's get it out of the way) "accessible" record to date, and while I doubt they'll ever do anything rote or boring, there's less to puzzle over here, and less of what makes their other work intriguing. Naturally, after so many years of non-statements and hostility, there is something of a strange fascination that comes with hearing them in such an alien setting, but beyond that, I don't know that there's anything of real lasting impact. Then again, transforming into an overqualified alt-country band could be the most hostile thing they've ever done.
