Even though they were the first band to be signed to Arts & Crafts entirely from outside Broken Social Scene's realm of side projects, The Most Serene Republic's debut album, "Underwater Cinematographer," nonetheless drew countless comparisons to the Canadian collective. With their youthful, bookish enthusiasm playing counterpart to the bohemian wit of Broken Social Scene, it seemed that TMSR was stereotyped from the start as that band's musical kid sibling.
All that changed with the release of their tour-only EP, "Phages," last year. It's hard to remember many instances where so much growth occured between two consecutive releases by a band. The pretentious messiness of "Underwater Cinematographer" was distilled more clearly with jazz influences, resulting in an EP that managed to be one of the best releases of the year, regardless of length, and building anticipation for their next full-length.
"Population" proves that this anticipation has been richly justified. TMSR fuse their brand of dreamy art-rock with jazz, electronica, and even classical influences here, creating a deliciously complex masterwork. While it's just as avant-garde as the acclaimed recent releases of bands such as Animal Collective or Battles, The Most Serene Republic's work includes an element lacking, to various degrees, in many experimental works: accessibility. That's not to say that this is a Top 40-ready album, but everything here is enveloped in layers that are immediately pleasing to the ear, but still retain their intricacy and create new sound experiences.
To pick any particular track to highlight over another is a near-impossibility. As with many Arts & Crafts releases, the album as a cohesive whole becomes an experience greater than the mere sum of its parts. Album opener "Humble Peasants," which starts off sounding like something off of a Phillip Glass soundtrack before transforming into a whimsy of horns and violins, is one of three instrumental tracks, all of which transcend their status as transitional elements. The others include "A Mix of Sun and Cloud," the truest jazz track on the album, juxtaposes two contrasting melodies together to create an auditory version of an imagist poem, and "Agenbite of Inwit" which seems to echo right out of the halls of a grand Renaissance castle.
Fortunately, things only get stronger with the addition of vocals into the ever-dense mix. "Phages" saw the introduction of Emma Ditchburn as co-lead vocalist with Adrian Jewett, and it's a good thing she returns to her duties here in full force. Outside of Amy Millan and Torquil Campbell of labelmates Stars, it's hard to imagine two voices more compatible and united in furtherance of a sound. While there's no real tour de force for Ditchburn here, as "Jazz Ordinaire" was on "Phages," the male-female interplay is a vital component of the layering.
And it's that glorious layering that takes center stage on "Population" as TMSR's greatest asset and creative force. Since "Phages," the band's emphasis has been more on creating artistic soundscapes than traditional verse-chorus structure songs that could translate to guitar and vocal. Orchestral sounds are the most common layer in the mix, such as in first single "Sherry and her Butterfly Net," which even begins with an orchestra tuning session; however, even on the sparse standout "The Men Who Live Upstairs," the masterful layering of Jewett and Ditchburn's voices over acoustic guitar creates a wall-of-sound effect to one-up the best shoegazers. "Present of Future End," which may well be one of the best of the best here, uses this vocal layering to create a choir effect that builds to a handful of truly thrilling crescendos. "Why So Looking Back" plays with multiple layers of electric guitars and piano, resulting in an equally dynamic build. Sometimes, though, the simpler moments of the album resonate just as deeply, as with the singalong music-box outro of "Neurasthenia" that closes the album.
In the midst of all this sensory overload, it's easy to overlook the lyrics and view the vocalists as yet one more classification of instrumentalists, but to do so causes the listener to be sorely deprived of the album's full impact. TMSR's songs have never followed any sort of verse-chorus structure, instead reading more like free-verse, or even prose poetry, at times. Even when the lyrics veer into almost Dadaist territory, the feeling of the words transcends their abstraction into something beautiful.
Considered on its own merit, this album is spectacular, but what makes it all the more monumental is the sense that the best is far yet to come from The Most Serene Republic. The growth from release to release has seen this band nearly transform its identity, and one can only imagine what's in store two or three albums down the road if they continue at this pace. Forget their label as Broken Social Scene's little brother--this is a work on par or above "You Forgot It In People," on track to establish itself as one of the best of the decade so far. The kid sibling may just usurp its overachieving older brother yet.
