A high and low vote on a similar note

Journal staffers Jaaron Collins and Ally Hall weigh in on the sophomore release from Calgary psych-rockers Women

  • Arts
WOMEN - Public Strain
WOMEN - Public Strain

words that I would use to describe my reaction towards Calgary based band Women’s second album, Public Strain.

Produced by Chad VanGaalen and released in Sept 2010, this indie/alternative album isn’t really something that would have a person running to their laptop to purchase it from iTunes. Nor would it be the first thing to recommend to a person who’s looking for some good music to listen to.

With the loud and often clashing chords, the electronic whining and buzzing and the generally inaudible lyrics (sung by Patrick Flegel) sounding like they’re coming from inside a tin can, I found the whole album very difficult to listen to. I’ll admit I couldn’t even get through some of the songs.

It was surprising to see such an interesting album cover containing such an unimpressive collection of songs. The black and white image of people walking through a snowstorm seems to promise easy-to-listen-to, alternative songs, but instead offers a range of chaotic noise and hollow voices.

At some points, the melodies are quite nice to listen to giving the impression that the music is getting better, but you’ll only be disappointed when the singing starts, leaving the song feeling empty and unfinished.

I may have had a completely different opinion about the album if the lyrics had actually been audible, instead of sounding dim and echoing. Most of the time, I had to strain my ears to try and make out what was being said—unsuccessfully I might add.

There’s nothing wrong with Flegel’s voice—well, what could be heard of it through the haze of instruments. However, it was drowned out by the noise of the guitars and the hum of the bass.

The only somewhat enjoyable song on the album would be “Locust Valley.” The melody was more upbeat and pleasant to listen to and Flegel’s singing was enjoyable. Other than this song, Public Strain turned out to be disappointing and left me with no desire to ever listen to Women again.

While I’m sure there are some people out there who would enjoy listening to this band, I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.

Jaaron Collins

I won’t lie. I didn’t quite get Women in 2008. I recall laughing at the prospect of rooting through thousands of results after thinking I could track the band down with a simple Google search. I remember sitting on my bedroom floor thinking I had their lo-fi psych-rock figured out as each track of their self-titled debut record reverberated by, only to be harshly knocked out of my comfort zone with the unexpectedly twang of a mutilated pop blast.

Always a sucker for a good mystery though, it didn’t take me longer than a couple listens to get into the vibe of Women’s jittering, quivering drone-driven style. “Black Rice” became the static-filled fixture to sleepless and melt-into-the-couch nights alike.

When their sophomore release Public Strain found its way to my eager fingertips at the end of September, I tore open the plastic of the blurry snow-covered LP and prepared my ears appropriately for guitar madness and distorted wonder.

If Women was the band’s noisy punch in the mouth, Public Strain is more of a caress. Noticeably less spastic than their first release, the album opener “Can’t You See” sets the experimental tone of the album off the bat with disembodied vocals fighting with a mass of wiry feedback filling the room like the flurries on the cover of the record.

Some things never change; the volume of 11 songs isn’t necessarily a departure for Women, but an identifiable progression in working through the flaws of their 2008 debut. The erratic nature of their songs is far from gone, but the record has a focused finish that’s evidence of deliberate conditioning of the group’s sound.

It’s easy to see how Women may not find themselves stuck in the heads of the masses, but why would they be—they’re not aiming to be a normal indie rock band by any stretch. Their subversion of the norm with typically unseemly chords like in the five minute “Drag Open” doesn’t make for easy listening, but it’s impossible not to engage with and be provoked by it.

The range of influence present in Women’s early work won’t be missed on Public Strain—Patrick Flegel’s vocals hazed over abstract sampling and harmonious guitar solidifies Women’s sonic collage.

As the record passes through Side A with the puzzling but enveloping “Heat Distraction,” the cohesion between each song becomes apparent. The Angelic “Penal Colony” morphs into the darkness of the ambient “Bells”. By the time Side B concludes with the whining vocals and tambourine jangles of “Eyesore,” the songs have shape-shifted into layering, looped, blurred incantations of each other. Manic? Maybe, but I can’t see myself getting bored with the ominous and cathartic swells of these Women anytime soon.

Ally Hall

All final editorial decisions are made by the Editor(s)-in-Chief and/or the Managing Editor. Authors should not be contacted, targeted, or harassed under any circumstances. If you have any grievances with this article, please direct your comments to journal_editors@ams.queensu.ca.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Skip to content