Of the many acts named Beans, this is the Vancouver-based quintet that once famously performed a 48-hour concert (Sugar Factory, August 10-11, 2001—sound and vision available at their website). The opening track of their fourth full-length, “May 6th Expires” could have been a romantic sax-led floater with intricately laced guitar interludes reminiscent of Disintegration-era Cure if it weren’t for Andy’s incessantly annoying, over-modulated. Unfortunately, the track deteriorates into a battle royale with guitar, horns, drums and unintelligible field recordings struggling for supremacy, and the listener is left to sort out the cacophonous wall of noise, like listening to a shortwave radio station under the covers late at night with three channels intersecting each other at once. Musical collages have to complement each other, not compete with each other for center stage and this one collapses under the weight of its own cleverness. The band isn’t ready for the second track, “Galuda,” to begin and spend the opening seconds yelling at each other. Some may call this fly-on-the-wall intimacy, I just found it annoying. After 90 seconds of Dead-like fumbling in the dark, the song proper begins and it’s another exquisite, guitar-based post rocker with a hyperactive drummer once again controlling the proceedings. Imagine chilling out to the latest Stars of the Lid blisswork when your significant other strolls through the room carrying a boom box blaring Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk, complete with the USC Marching Band.
Track three, inexplicably titled “Number Four” once again tentatively flounders before gelling into a cohesive groove, and it’s a laidback, ruminating jazzy vibe at that, with mercifully subdued drumming that, for once, operates within the confines of the band’s overall modus operandi. It’s a perfect chillout tune that I’ll return to often, particularly after a hard day’s night at the office. There’s a nice melancholic piano touch at the end as well!
The fourth and final of our ten minute tracks is the marble-mouthed “My Love Is A Rhinestone Infused Dodecahedron,” which is obviously not gonna gain any airplay on that all-request weekend over at your local college radio station! This one features more Tarentel-like guitar explorations with (thankfully) subtle cymbal flashes and the odd cello flourish from Katie Dey sprinkled throughout for flavoring. After about seven minutes, the spirits of Godspeed You Black Emperor and Mogwai enter the room, and the band begins to rise like a Phoenix, driven by a martial drumbeat as volume, temperature, and blood pressure arise as one and brass joins the fray until it feels as if all of Canada has risen to its feet to join in its new national anthem. Impressive! If only I didn’t have to wait a half hour to get to this highlight of the album.
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