Popcorn Noises

Warpaint - The Fool

It’s probably not meant to be this way, but I think Warpaint is a pretty harrowing band to listen to because there are some significant risks built into what they do. The self-titled song here is a really good example (because, first of all, I find naming a song after your band and vice-versa potentially unsettling). It begins with this jaw-clenching guitar riff that I understand is supposed to be psychedelic and desert-y, but which immediately conjures in me thoughts of an awful, cheesy mysticism evoked by some kind of post-Metallica alt-rock outfit. Now no, Warpaint should not be thought of in that ilk, nor do I think they’re in any danger of sliding toward a distasteful machismo or anything (far from it), but in this instance they go way too heavy on the glassy chorus guitar pedal effects. Emily Kokal starts singing and it doesn’t sound like she realizes there’s a microphone in the room or that any people might be listening through it. I start thinking this could be the whole song, that they’re going to keep harping on this ominous march thing but with no confidence until Theresa Wayman joins in, voices split across the headphones, and it sounds pretty cool actually. Maybe I just missed something and they’re really going somewhere with this? Finally, two minutes into “Warpaint,” Stella Mozgawa jumps on this tight, hi-hat heavy groove and the whole band suddenly locks into step. My head starts bobbing and okay, I get it now, Warpaint, you got me. Good one.

See, Warpaint is a band that spends most of the time with its back to you. I’ve never seen them play live, but from what I’ve read and heard from people who have, they tend to keep their eyes closed and sway around, off in their own little worlds, which is as close as you can get to not facing your audience without being rude. A number of reviews and write-ups have compared The Fool to a seance or some kind of dreamy ritual and I think it’s because Warpaint’s style of lean, intricate ensemble playing feels distinctly introverted, like the logic behind their jammy song constructions is a well-guarded communal secret. They sound far more interested in playing together than they do in playing for anyone, even though that’s probably not true.

The risks, of course, lie in possibly alienating your audience, turning from cooly mysterious to plodding and tiresome in an instant, and having songs that evaporate as soon as they’re over because you’ve downplayed your hooks so much that they don’t really hook. Warpaint don’t fall into this trap often, but they do spend parts of The Fool skirting dangerously close to its edge. Since Mozgawa’s playful dexterity behind the kit propels a lot of the album’s high points, the songs where she holds back and sticks to basic rock pounding end up being the least fun. The album’s longest track, “Majesty,” finds her doing a generic Phil Selway hop-skip while the guitar, vocals, and piano get muddy and un-contoured. As a result, the song takes a long time to go mostly nowhere. “Composure,” despite its spooky chants and harmonies, is loosest and grooviest in its middle section, so the ending drags quite a bit. That’s not to say that all Warpaint songs should just go from quiet to loud (they shouldn’t), but as a listener it’s important to have a sense that the song is always developing. The high vocals at the end of “Shadows” grate a little more than they should, too, though its wobbly, inebriated first half is a great change of pace on the album.

And make no mistake, The Fool has plenty of triumphs. One of Warpaint’s greatest strengths is using the stereo spectrum to foreground their heavy rhythms while backing off the harmonized coos and guitar doodles. “Bees” employs a drum machine that allows for Mozgawa to pop up in expected places and for bassist Jenny Lee Lindberg to explore a sludgier low end. “Set Your Arms Down” opens the record on an effectively sensuous grind, drawing the listener into its world, and “Lissie’s Heart Murmur” leaves us on a wonderfully cold, noir-ish note, wanting more. The brightest moment, though, is still “Undertow,” which I’ve already praised extensively and have started to count as one of 2010’s best songs. It follows right behind “Warpaint”, so it’s easy to pick out the comparative differences. Notice how dry and raw Wayman’s guitar is—no more pinched, distracting effects—and how it interlocks seamlessly with Lindberg’s bass. Mozgawa keeps time and tension with her downbeats while the start-stop riff creates a more tangible space for Kokal’s verses, which in turn sound more dynamic. She rises from whisper to wail and back again without losing direction, and when they hit that full-band payoff, it feels especially strong, earned, and even danceable. To me, it shows an extremely promising way forward for Warpaint and offers further proof that, even if they don’t always work out, a few risks can lead to some great rewards.