One of Tim Kinsella’s off again/on again projects (including Cap’n Jazz and Owls, amongst others), Joan of Arc has always been more experimental than the other bands. They have evolved from their earliest days as a straightforward indie group with interesting song structures into one that features a more abstract approach to pop music. Their most recent LPs veered far into the avant-garde. ‘Testimonium Songs’ was the collection of songs performed live with experimental theatre group ‘Every House Has a Door’ while others featured solo acoustic work or explorations into long-form instrumental sonic art. The most recent proper LP of songs was 2011’s ‘Life Like,’ which was a return to their indie roots.
Close to six years on from that, and nearly three years since their last recorded output, Joan of Arc are back on form again. They’re preparing to embark on a US tour and releasing their first new LP in far too long. Besides being a mouthful to say, ‘He’s Got The Whole This Land Is Your Land In His Hands’ is yet another evolution of Joan of Arc. It’s an album of songs performed by the full band, but these songs are brighter and more abstract than ever before.
The songs make extensive use of synthesisers – as droning background, as percussion, and as embellishment. Many of the songs have a martial, robotic feel to them, with rigid beats and song structures. Synthesisers bleep and bloop in the background. The opening track, ‘Smooshed That Cocoon,’ falls into this category. It has a lo-fi sound and retro lounge sparkle, courtesy of the melodic line and electronics. Deadpan vocals, sometimes overdubbed off key, add to the mechanical feel. ‘This Must Be The Placenta’ is similar, with angular, off-kilter throbs and flutters amongst the fixed unchanging beat. The combination creates one of the most effective tracks of the album.
Some of the other tracks have a more ambient feel: ‘Stranged That Egg Yolk’ and ‘Full Moon and Rainbow Repair’ are good examples. They’re chill tracks with electronics flowing quietly in the background. A synthesised bass line and drums throb repetitively, maintaining the sense of the machines, while other electronics provide a warmer feel.
The pinnacle of the album comes from ‘Grange Hex Stream’ and ‘Two-Toothed Troll’: a pair of tracks which seem more like two halves of a single song separated by a short space. From the former to the latter, the relaxed tempo continues, the drumbeat is constant, and certain electronic flourishes are identical. The latter track feels like it’s alive and breathing, with deep buzzy electronics rising and falling like a sleeping, snoring giant.
The lyrics are equally abstract. Consider the fascinating “New Wave Hippies,” another song that has a very march-like feel. “I was doing my own nothing special futile strut down the street / Stopping at every corner is cool / Knocking on every door, Hello? I’m here for the art show / I know how the nicest guy in ISIS feels / Two jerks out on the street, both look just like Einstein / One has crumbs in his moustache and the other one waves.” The closing track, ‘Ta-ta Terrordome,’ is the most abstract of all. The music borders on the chaos of free jazz, though its repetitiveness belies that freedom. The lyrics sounding like something from a poetry slam.
This isn’t for everyone, and it isn’t for casual listening. This is pop music as art. And like any good art, more subtleties are revealed and appreciation grows with each listen.
PAUL SILVER