There’s nothing bad in Macha’s back catalog. Not a lick: their first two records, which came out in rapid succession on Jet Set Records – Macha in 1998, See It Another Way in 1999 – were two of the most interesting indie records of the late ‘90s. Their EP-length collaboration with Bedhead from 2000, Macha Loved Bedhead was the rare collaboration that actually resulted in work that sounded distinctively unlike that of either participant. Even more impressively, that collaboration resulted in one of the most unlikely and likable songs of that and many other years: a funny, and oddly poignant Matt Kadane-voiced cover of Cher’s “Do You Believe In Life After Love?” There was no reason to suspect, upon hearing Macha Loved Bedhead, that it would be the last work Macha would do for nearly four years.
And yet it was, and thus it would be hard to blame anyone for forgetting that Forget Tomorrow, Macha’s new full-length, could ever arrive. After all, Macha consists of a bunch of world-travelling, Gamelan-loving college boy-lookin’ dudes: it wasn’t far-fetched that one or b oth of the brothers McKay (multitasker Joshua and drummer Mischo) might’ve lit out for Malaysia or Myanmar with no return ticket in hand. Thankfully, they’re back, and while Forget Tomorrow has its highs and lows, it’s perhaps most notable as a return to the scene of a band indie rock desperately needs at the moment. No other band sounds like Macha, and on Forget Tomorrow they go about putting more distance between themselves and their peers: imagine perfectly turned Mogwai-style chimers (the beautiful “Calming Passengers”) bumping up against airy Far Eastern instrumentals (“Sub II” is the best of several) followed by way-uptempo raveups powered by hammered dulcimer and vibraphone (the title track and “(Do The) Inevitable”) and you’ve almost got a handle on what Forget Tomorrow sounds like.
Macha’s problem on this record, as on their previous album-length work, is actually an overextension of a strong suit. Macha’s wide-ranging aesthetic makes their sound possible, but it has also resulted in records that feel diffuse and unstructured. Forget Tomorrow is probably Macha’s best-structured record: instrumentals move fluidly into and out of verse-chorus-verse songs, and there’s even a palpable political theme underlying songs like “Smash and Grab.” Still, no other band this musically distinguished is as prone to unnecessary interludes and meandering space-fillers as Macha. There are times when Forget Tomorrow suggests a new direction – actually, several times and several new directions – but mostly it’s handcuffed by Macha’s old problems with consistency. Strutting basslines characterize the album-opening burners “Forget Tomorrow” and “(Do The) Inevitable,” and about halfway through the instrumental “D-D-D” or perhaps during the pulsing agit-rocker “Smash and Grab” it should dawn on you that Macha could make an ass-kicking and totally new-sounding dance-rock record. They probably could, but they don’t here. A lack of focus and a surplus of unremarkable instrumentals muddle the record’s middle portion, and by the time Forget Tomorrow regains its stride with two lovely instrumentals (the aforementioned “Calming Passengers” and “Sub II”) and the haunting album closer “No Surprise Party” it has basically become a head-spinningly diverse mixtape.
Even if Macha never makes a statement more coherent than Forget Tomorrow, they’ll remain a band worth checking for: a group that makes consistently interesting music, and which seems almost too broad-minded to pick a genre and stick with it, is always worth praising. It also feels silly to criticize a band, however gently, for not making a great album when they release one with as many great songs as Forget Tomorrow. But, yeah, I did it anyway. |