Pitchfork

Those who'll tell you that nothing's shocking are, generally speaking, full of shit. Sure, it's tempting to cop a jaded wince and react to everything with calculated disinterest, but in a world where the quiet, seemingly emotionless among us often wind up hanging from the rafters of dank apartments, one has to wonder how many reactions of shock and trauma are silently repressed and denied. We're often taught not to register our emotions, but when those unexpressed feelings finally boil over, the results are virtually always shocking, and it's that simmering combination of rage and terror that often fucks things up in the most horrific ways.

Xiu Xiu frontman Jamie Stewart is often accused of overblown and dramatic bursts of emotion too intense and terrifying to be considered even remotely sincere. But as anybody who's ever experienced (or witnessed) a full-blown emotional freakout can attest to, it's sometimes the most ridiculous and indulgent moments that are the most wrenching and unbearable. At their best, Xiu Xiu manage to tap directly into this kind of unbearable tension, discomfort, and eventual catharsis, making music that's not always easy to listen to, but that often elicits a reaction much more powerful and disturbing than almost anything else around.

On this EP, some of Stewart's best songs to date are pitted against the more conventional melancholia of their Absolutely Kosher labelmates The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up. The EP alternates between songs by the two artists, a strategy that seriously disrupts the flow of each artists' work; compared to Xiu Xiu's unique and confrontational contributions, The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up's songs seem tame and inconsequential. If one gets acclimated to the understated moodiness of the Pile-Up, Xiu Xiu's tracks tend to come across as subtle as a punch in the face. Taken separately, though, both groups contribute entirely worthwhile songs.

Xiu Xiu's four tracks-- all slated for inclusion on their next full-length-- are some of the most melodic Stewart has ever written. "Fabulous Muscles", the standout track and one of the band's best to date, features Stewart singing over acoustic guitar, sparse percussion and plucked strings, offering a chorus of "Cremate me after you come on my lips." It's bound to strike some as gratuitously shocking, but the song itself is in fact remarkably subtle; the percussion, though slight, is violent, musically echoing unsettling lyrics like "Break my face in/ Was the kindest touch you ever gave." Stewart's vocal performance is powerfully nuanced as he veers from a soft, uncomfortably high croon to a barely contained wail by song's end.

"Little Panda McElroy" and "Bunny Gamer" both make sophisticated use of electronic noises and drum machine beats in juxtaposed order and entropy; the former is a beautiful drone piece with powerfully disturbing undercurrents, mimicking Stewart's lyrics of self-effacing salvation. "Nieces Pieces", which appeared in a similar version on Fag Patrol, benefits from the cleaner sonic treatment it receives here, as it builds to a chilling, violent-yet-skeletal finale.

The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up's contributions to this EP are wrenching in a much more traditional sense, employing repetitious piano figures, whispered vocals, and simple, insistent percussion. Over the course of two albums, the Pile-Up have proven themselves quite adept at creating dark-yet-dynamic songs that benefit greatly from subtle instrumental interplay and well-conceived melodies, and these four songs are no exceptions. "Seattle" is the most understated and minimal of the four Pile-Up tracks, making use of a memorable piano part, but the vocal melody seems intrinsically secondary.

Chris Walla produced The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up's contributions to this EP, and their "Conversation Stalls" bears a striking resemblance to his full-time band, Death Cab for Cutie. It's their best offering here, benefiting from gorgeous, clean guitar lines and a ridiculously strong, slinky vocal melody. "Birthday Cake", however, falls into pure emo cliché, mentioning mixtapes and Nick Drake before closing with the whimpered lyric, "I dreamt that I kissed you."

Shortcomings aside, The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up's four tracks will be a welcome addition to the collection of any self-respecting lover of sad bastard music. It just seems unfortunate that they have to share the bill with a band that continually manages to lay bare the overdetermined emptiness of "sad bastard music" as a whole. Both bands delve into the darker side of human emotion, but where The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up are content to deftly tell of their feelings, Xiu Xiu lay it all out right in front of you, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it makes you feel.