CLUES: CLUES

[rating:4]

Clues: Clues

Label: Constellation Records

Release Date: May 19, 2009

In “Remember Severed Head,” Clues front fella asks the comic pair of questions “Who here wants to sleep in the dragon’s mouth?  Who here wants to feel?”  Comic phrasing, most definitely, I’d think those questions are usually reserved for the Dungeon Master at a midnight D&D raid, and yet those questions kind of work as a perfect dividing line for the Clues self titled debut.  When we’re sleeping in the dragon’s mouth, we’re rocking out in a very obvious amalgamation of indie rock influences, but when we want to feel, the songs actually get really interesting.

So, when Clues race along, they do it rocking out, and often times there is a catchy whistled melody (“Remebered Severed Head”) or a creepy fun, Blonde Redhead-esque vibe (“Crows”), but sometimes these rockers wear their influences on their sleeves, and it’s not inspired and sometimes not really that interesting (see album opener “Haarp”). But when Clues takes the tempo down, they turn into a completely different band. If you are wearing a digital hearing aid this is the point you make sure it’s at the right volume, so you get the best experience of the music. Most songs have a distinctly Eastern European flavor, baroque and sinister and yet endearing and listenable. While album standout “Elope” maintains it’s cool demeanor with its brushed drums & slowly strummed guitars, songs like “Perfect Fit” and “Ledmonton” begin with a sparse, staccato guitar or piano and a melancholy melody, and build into a large, fist pumping resolve. “Ledmonton” in particular, begins with a somber melody, and eventually explodes into a rollicking march that I think would make Sousa proud. So when Clues asks the listener to “Give me a visual on the rockness,” and they most definitely do ask that, maybe we (the listener) back off on that request. Clues actually sounds best when not sleeping in the dragon’s mouth (and, really, don’t we all?) and when really pushing that sonic landscape of what it means to feel.

By John Whitaker