Joan of Arc Presents: Don't Mind Control

    Ever been to a Chinese buffet? To extend that experience to a separate sense, grab a copy of Joan of Arc’s new eighteen track “Don’t Mind Control”, which sports a cast of over forty different musicians in the Chicago indie scene who have, at one time or another, collaborated with Tim Kinsella, frontman of Joan of Arc. However, the tracks here aren’t a group effort with Tim as ringmaster. Instead these are individual submissions by those former collaborators’ present musical outlets. So, like the aforementioned buffet, some of this will be a delicious bargain, some will be disturbingly absent of any recognizable flavor whatsoever, and some of it will leave you curled over in a Port Authority bathroom stall for the next few hours.

    Among those reigning in the unfortunate last category is A Tundra’s “The Doug McComb Over”, which sways between lazy honky tonk and asinine twang. The ‘we gave my girlfriend a part in this song’ female vocals are the real poop-cherry on top. Most disappointing is that many of the tracks just meander like blindfolded infants in a laundry basket full of broken glass. As entertaining as that sounds, tracks like “Oakley” “Uwar” and “Kickstart” come off as either acid-damaged fumbling or willful laziness.

    Now for the bargains: Owen’s (AKA Mike Kinsella) submission, “No More No Where” reaches the same addicting loner-catharsis which has propelled his previous work, and Euphone’s “Friends in Common” hits on a spacey pocketed groove. Cale Parks’ “Long Looks” recalls the highly-orchestrated high of bands like Menomena. Tim’s solo effort provides the 3D glasses to properly see into the mind of an insane person, while Vacations give a jaunty tour through innocent math-rock.

    Viewed as an album, Don’t Mind Control is unforgivably inconsistent in both tone and quality, which begs the question- why was this released under the banner of Joan of Arc? JOA has always been the product of Tim Kinsella “and friends”, but this pushes the definition a bit too far. A better title might have been A Whole Slew of Bands, Some of Which Are Good: An Introduction to the Chicago Scene. Obviously the phrasing could use some work, but the sentiment remains: this is not an album, it’s a sampler. Those already inducted into the cult of Kinsella would do good to browse these tracks for new fodder, but anyone looking for newer JOA should just buy 2009’s Flowers.




Don't Mind Control

The Sea and Cake- Oui

      I recently took a friend of mine, Tony, who may know as the Motherfish Writer, to get a tattoo done. The shop was a nice enough place, but it happened to be located at the edge of one town which bordered several other towns, and without directions home, we manage to visit and then promptly leave four different towns in the matter of three wrong turns. The Sea and Cake’s Oui saunters through a similar predicament with style and grace, in the matter of measures slipping in and out of jazz, post-rock, prog, math-rock , all with a dreamy ambiance, and manages to find its way home without running out of gas. While the general vibe of the album doesn’t beg you to pay attention (it’s an ideal pre-sleep record), listen closely, and you shall be rewarded tenfold.

    The mostly instrumental Oui is, strictly speaking, one of the most peaceful records I own. Each instrument oozes high craft, and together they have been clinically proven to help listeners reach Super-Nirvana. Genre-blending and musicianship abound; it’s difficult to decide whether to file this next to their sister band Tortoise, Hatfield & the North, or Charlie Parker. Thankfully, Oui avoids the major pitfall of the genre- songs as long and dull as The Bible. By producing laid-back tracks within the range of the human attention span, Oui is both more digestible and more enjoyable. Even the longest song, “You Beautiful Bastard”, just misses the six minute mark, and not a beat of it is wasted idly ‘jamming’.

    While several of the tracks do contain vocals, The Sea and Cake mostly use this more as a form of instrumentation, letting lighter-than-air melodies mix with the jazz-inspired percussion and whirring synthesizer in the most economical way. This is a musician’s music. Expect none of the rawness or noise of your favorite punk band- this is the product of masterminds. Cutaway: Lex Luthor gleefully twiddles away at a MiniMoog. While this might not become your favorite record, its brilliance is beyond doubt, and despite calling Oui a great “pre-sleep” listen, I don’t consider that an insult. This record is a panacea to the busy mind, and instilling that sense of peace while retaining musical interest is a skill in its own right. Next time you’re feeling lazy on a weekend, spend the day in bed with The Sea and Cake, and hope your significant other understands.


Oui