Pitchfork

The M's, as fine a purveyor of vintage British glam-pop as any Midwestern band, have enjoyed a slow but confident climb. After their fine debut and finer follow-up, Future Women, the third album has some expectations to face-- and, surprisingly, the band is playing it coy. A keyboard squiggle and healthy dose of damp distortion kick off "Big Sound" in a manner not unlike Blur's "Bugman" (replete with some falsetto "la-la-la's" later), though the eighth-note piano hammering and horn section point back towards the era they're aiming for. But for better or for worse, those are the clearest instruments in an intentionally murky mix; the vocals are lost in echo, the guitars are an overdriven open-handed slap rather than the punch of earlier records. The lyrics mention flashes of lightning and bass that shakes the ground, but the band's swagger is coming from somewhere more inscrutable-- it sounds like it was assembled from junkyard scraps, not pointy guitars and high heels. The expectedly excellent drumming teases a low-end attack that never comes, waving a big stick without ever quite using it, and what sounds blown-out and thin at first slowly takes on an ominous tone. Budget Fridmann-style production may not be the most adventurous choice they could have made, but it's working nonetheless.

MP3:> The M's: "Big Sound"
[from Real Close Ones; due 06/17/08 on Polyvinyl]