Tuesday, March 2, 2004
Saskatchewan review
Splendid E-zine
Tuesday, March 2, 2004
by Jennifer Kelly
My copy of Saskatchewan came embellished with a magic marker inscription "Sasketchewan...highest violent crime rate in Canada!" followed by a happy face. This hand-scribbled introduction was, like the album it accompanied, a little sly, a little self-parodying, maybe even a tiny bit profound. Whether they are gleefully taking Boston's T to Saskatoon, ironically considering the postcard rack ("This one says 'Regina is for lovers.' I knew you'd get a kick out of that."), or tracing faint constellations you can only see on the dark, empty plains of Canada, The Minor Thirds are at once utterly serious and utterly playful. The music that supports them is soft and unemphatic, loosely jointed and cooperative, a blend of lo-fi guitar and Elephant 6-style kitchen-sinkery (toy piano, ukulele, jaw harp, typewriter). Sometimes it's quite silly, and at other times it's mysterious and lovely (those minor thirds, I expect). Even if it never exactly reaches both hands out of the stereo to grab you, it does, over time, acquire a certain self-effacing charm.
Despite their bilingual titles and Canadian references, The Minor Thirds are a Portland, Oregon collective, headed up by Chris Piuma and Charlotte Wells. They are supported by a half dozen or so associates including, among others, Jake Anderson (of Bronwyn and Celesteville) and a two-year-old drummer named Finn McCool. They accompany their six-song EP with a booklet of found poetry. For instance, the first page includes 100 or so sentences beginning "Saskatchewan is...", obviously taken from news clippings, travel brochures, encyclopedias and other trustworthy sources. After this first and longest "essay", the text follows the track listing, with "Boston is..." sentences, followed by "Taxonomy is...," "Moose Jaw is...," "Mail Fraud is...," "The Giraffe is" and finally the shortest, which simply reads, "Points North is because the earth itself is like a huge magnet. Points north is not strictly correct. Points north is provide. Points north is what allows." Oops, gave away the ending—sorry!—but you get the idea.
These prose poems are loosely, tangentially related to the disc's six songs, which range from achingly quiet lo-fi murmurs like "Points North" to giddily rocking tracks like "Moose Jaw" and "Boston". Piuma and Wells trade vocals, and both have unique and interesting voices that are not always perfectly in tune. I found that I minded this less as I became more familiar with the album; it became less of a mistake than an unpolished surface, but you'll have to make up your own mind.
The standout here is the quiet and plainspoken "Giraffe", which precisely delineates the stars that can be seen in Saskatchewan's night skies. Against barely-there guitars and drums, Piuma directs you to Orion, the North Star, the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia ("like an M or a W or a Sigma") and finally the mythical Giraffe. This constellation, he explains, is so faint that "If the clouds are out, you won't see it / If the moon is bright, you won't see it. / If there's any light interfering from any nearby town / or any pollution interfering from any nearby town / You won't see it." It's an almost perfect metaphor for the subtle, pure and sometimes faint music that The Minor Thirds create. Find yourself a dark, quiet place to enjoy Saskatchewan.
Copyright 2004 Splendid WebMedia
