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Except for maybe Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, the most
therapeutic record I've heard in the era known as Post-9/11
wasn't made by a rugged American rock icon from New Jersey,
but by a trio of smartass Canadian kids with an affinity for
pink polyester and sci-fi B-movie synthesizers. Maybe a couple
million of my fellow Americans bandaged their wounded spirits
with the ash-encrusted docu-melodrama of The Rising, but for
my money, The Boss & Co. failed to inject a single cubic centimeter
of our most necessary grief remedy, which is, of course, laughter.
Fortunately, in these times of endlessly manufactured color-coded
terror, we have The Unicorns' Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're
Gone? to share our irrepressible subconscious fears of death
by explosion, to help us come to terms with our precariously
dangling mortality, and most importantly, to remind us that
rib-tickling and ass-shaking were never mutually exclusive
forms of musical psychotherapy. |
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The world according
to The Unicorns is an absurdist universe parallel to our own,
where whimsical childhood escapism is both the symptom of,
and the most effective weapon against, a harrowing not-too-distant
reality- one haunted by visions of ghosts (the two-holes-in-a-bedsheet
kind), fiery plane crashes (complete with mouth-made fffch-POOK!
sound effects), and imminent nuclear annihilation ("Nuclear
war and a hotbed of trouble/Make with the penance/repent on
the double!" they rap during the brief moment in "Tuff Luff"
that hosts a funkier party-at-ground-zero than "Party at Ground
Zero").
And in spite of obvious Flaming Lips
and Microphones fetishes, the band has formulated their own
idiosyncratic brand of sublimely goofy lo-fi pop that continues
to generate a buzz among the indies. It was only last December
that the 'Corns made their NYC debut before a modestly-sized
Mercury Lounge crowd; within a month, Pitchfork named their
album one of the ten best of 2003, and the band returned to
the Apple for two packed-house performances (opening for The
Fever at Pianos, and headlining Southpaw with the groovy power-pop
of The Amber Smith and the garage death metal of Vaz). |
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| It's likely that most of the folks at
the gigs weren't in the same boat as my geeky self and my pretentious
9/11 implications; nonetheless, most undoubtedly shared my immense
enjoyment of the inimitable Unicorn experience. Hearty laughter
welcomed the comic theatrics, from the drunken dancing of uni-horned
Max Grody ("The Ultimate Roadie") to the verbal "spat" with
the Southpaw sound engineer (who ultimately triumphed, silencing
the band by blaring Laura Branigan's "Gloria" through the PA). |
| But of course, all the tomfoolery
wouldn't be worth more than the cans of Rheingold sporadically
chugged by Max Grody if the boys in the band didn't back it
up with beyond-their-years musical chops. (In an interview with
Cityzen, co-frontman Nicholas 'Niel' Diamonds cites his age
as "30 to 8," a witty assessment of his precocious man-boyish
nature, although according to www.the-unicorns.com he graduated
high school in 1999. Interview-shy Alden Ginger, the group's
other singer / songwriter / guitarist / bassist / keyboardist,
is two years younger. Drummer J'aime Tambour doesn't believe
"my age is pertinent to the enjoyment of our music.") |
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| Whether they're near-whispering the delicate
melodies of "Tuff Ghost" and "Jellybones," or punking their
way through cathartic blasts like "Les Os" and "The Clap," they
tend to stick to cleverly skewed (and skewered) pop structures.
In fact, all three of the band's New York performances of "The
Clap" book-ended a medley of well-crafted pop radio staples-
Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Out of My Head" (also a Lips
homage?) and 50 Cent's "P.I.M.P." And while their choice of
covers elicited chuckles from the hipsters, their love of radio
pop isn't entirely tongue-in-cheek. "We all (enjoy commercial
radio)," says J'aime. "When it's done well, it's good; when
it's done poorly, it's unlistenable, just like anything else."
"Commercial hip-hop is definitely the most exciting music happening
in the mainstream right now," adds Niel, skimming an issue of
GhettoBlaster through a face mask of wispy brown hair. "Until
we become the mainstream," J'aime smiles. |
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It's not long before they
discuss their fantasy hip-hop collaborations: Andre 3000, Jean
Grey, MF Doom, Doseone. They also have a ball joking about how
"really, really powerful" their entourage will be when they
hit the big time, "so when we walk about getting our pictures
taken, everyone will see we roll with some pretty crazy people,"
kids J'aime. So are The Unicorns gangsta rappers at heart? "Well,
Niel and Alden are from the West Side of Canada and I'm from
the east, but we come together. There's no rivalry there,"
J'aime says.
"Except when you shot me," Niel immediately
deadpans. He pauses, as if putting the matter into serious perspective,
then rationalizes, "but I guess that was because I shot
your guy." |
Somewhere
amidst the acid-spritzed, crayola-smudged cartoonery of Who
Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?, there's at least one moment
of genuine, touching sincerity. My favorite is the ending
of "Jellybones," where Niel and Alden softly duet for a refrain
I can't 100% understand; either it's "This is love, so we'll
survive" or "This is life, so we'll survive." It doesn't matter.
Both are too beautiful for me to even try to think of a word
other than beautiful. Recent traumatic events in the Western
world haven't killed irony in the Land of the Unicorns, nor
have they killed optimism. And if more American bands were
this inspiring, I'd never consider moving to Canada.
"The Unicorns:
2014" will be released by Suicide Squeeze in March, following
a pink vinyl release of Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're
Gone? by Alien8 Recordings.
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