When no one is around, do you think Menomena jumps around in a field? Do you think any one of them considers how the weight of the world lays on our chests like a comfortable cat? Does the sun shine on onomatopoeias? Do you think Menomena make a fantastic pie? Has Menomena ever attacked Wales willingly? Do you think everyone’s arms would look cooler if they had scales on them?
I do think that Friend or Foe sounds like a mind meandering through its recesses. A childish glee permeates throughout the album. Lines like, “It’s hard to make friends with a pessimist,” could just as easily be “you’re not invited to my birthday party, and there’s gonna be a petting zoo and it’s gonna be the best party ever and you can’t come.” These songs analyze the most petty of faux-pas while eliminating the extraneous thoughts. For instance, the song “Weird” begins:
Say it again
I know you love to
Hear yourself speak
Words that you think
I can’t follow
Maybe that’s the way you and I will always relate.
The sardonic and often angry observations are offset by quirky instrumentation. Somehow, Friend or Foe maintains cohesion.
However excellent it sounds, the conceptual prowess seems lost on the listener about 10 songs in. I’m usually the last to complain about an album being too long—the world of the EP posing as an album is not one I support in the least—but Menomena has cut nothing from this album. 12 songs, “Running” being a 2:00 aberration (albeit a fantastic one), clock in at 3 to 6 minutes. By the time the album ends, the mind has wandered. The brain has analyzed enough. Mine emptied and meandered freely through excess foppery, thus the series of ridiculous questions starting this review.
Whether this is a fault or the mark of Menomena’s opus will have to wait, however, as the songs themselves stand alone as being remarkable. The results are astounding. “My My” possesses an inert quality—the song ends but feels like it never started. Opener “Muscle’n Flo” recalls their debut I Am the Fun Blame Monster with thunderous drumming over light piano and guitar duels (recalling Oingo Boingo at times). “The Pelican” then destroys all preconceived notions with sinister build-ups leading to beautiful melodies that the Arcade Fire or Interpol would kill to maintain. Closer “West” rambles through six minutes of absolute brilliance—the reminder that the height of this band is higher and more exciting than most others these days. I’m excited just being able to write that. Seriously. |