Two years of relentless touring with the likes of Billy Talent, Titus Andronicus, and Fucked Up has seen Toronto, ON quartet, PUP win many fans and earn plenty of critical acclaim. Stereogum named them one of their “40 Bands of 2013”, and Grid T.O. described them as “one of Toronto’s best live bands”. The latter is just the tip of the iceberg as far as their reputation as a bile-and-guts, full-throttle live band goes. On their self-titled debut the band sought to transfer this ferocious, balls-to-the-wall energy to record.
As difficult as this task is, producer Dave Schiffman (Rage Against the Machine, Weezer, The Bronx) does a decent job of capturing the essence of fists pumping, bouncing floors and walls dripping with sweat. PUP come across as a maniacal blend of The Subways and Pulled Apart By Horses: lithe FM-rock more frenetic than anything you’ll actually hear on daytime radio. The sprightly fight-pop of ‘Reservoir’ combines grit and saccharine in equal measures, and was the obvious choice for a lead single. It is perhaps the best realisation of what PUP are aiming to do here. ‘Back against the Wall’ is similarly rollicking, its feverish leads ushering in a surge of power-chords as the track rapidly rises and falls. Meanwhile, on ‘Cul-de-Sac’ spiralling tom-toms and bass pave the way for the biggest chorus on the album. At their most typical, PUP are capable of crafting enjoyable, fairly quirky rock songs. It is easy to see why they incite such strong reactions in a live setting.
There are deviations from this punk/indie-rock template, however, and during these that PUP differentiate themselves from the herd. The bluesy whiteboy-dub of ‘Yukon’ and the afro-pop tendencies of ‘Mabu’ and ‘Dark Days’ are interesting changes of pace that reveal unexpected dimensions to PUP’s sound. ‘Yukon’s stumbling, dazed march competently sets the scene for a tale of hopelessly wandering in the wilderness: a gripping extended metaphor of being abandoned by a “northern temptress”. Meanwhile, ‘Dark Day’s incorrigible buoyancy and optimism (“at least I survived”) serves as a fun, catchy counterpoint to “the end of the earth”. These aberrations are not to be overstated, however: their ‘outside’ influences are strained through the same punk/indie-rock filter that typifies the album. Although this ‘filter’ does dilute these eccentricities somewhat, it also provides a common ground for the album’s more nonconformist tracks and thus makes the album feel more cohesive.
PUP don’t always get it right though, and there are plenty of near-misses on the album. Opener, ‘Guilt Trip’ seems to have all the right ingredients: an infuriatingly catchy lead riff, exciting rapid-fire dynamics with the call-and-response guitar work in the verses, and an explosive chorus. However, somewhere between some overly twee, jarring riffs, and a few key changes that don’t quite fit, its momentum gets derailed slightly. Meanwhile, ‘Factories’ closes the album in underwhelming fashion. The track repeatedly builds tension but never succeeds in dissipating it – even with an out-of-the-blue coda built around a pseudo-menacing riff. Elsewhere, there are recurrent, nagging problems. Occasionally the band take one hairpin-turn too many, choruses fail to leave their mark, or else riffs are too finicky; frustratingly, PUP has a tendency to overcomplicate things. Still, that doesn’t change the fact this is a very enjoyable album.
At their best, PUP show admirable ambition and pen tracks that deserve to be shouted along with. At their worst, they have a couple of relatively forgettable tracks and several awkward moments in which seams are too visible or come apart slightly. But even then, these low-points are still more than plain mosh-pit-fodder, if a little less than golden bangers. PUP are still young, but already have a few tricks up their sleeve, and seemingly have the potential to learn more. One day they could be a real pedigree.
RICHARD CRAIG