5 out of 5

Label: Secretly Canadian

Producer: Michael Flynn (engineer)

I’m honestly not sure if I’ll be able to conjure words about this one.

Japonize Elephants shouldn’t be as entertaining as they are; their albums should not be as satisfying as they are.  They should be a novelty band – what with their ‘traditional’ klezmer / folk non-stop banjo stomp and their made-up character names and maybe costumes and odd album themes that seem wholly rooted in down-home mentality but totally abstracted from reality… and yet, there’s something so legit about their recordings (Bob’s Bacon Barn included, of course), that though you can sense the silliness and smiles behind it, it is, at the same time, damned intensely played and sung.  Which, again, doesn’t mean it’s serious at all, if track names like ‘Dingle Berries’ and ‘Flaming Asshole’ didn’t give something away.  But while the hick-toned jug-whistlin’ chorus of ‘Fuck the Farmacia’ or the creepy / catchy chanted theme of ‘Elvesinsideus’ might make you roll your eyes if you happen to know the ‘real’ ‘Mummy Boy’ or ‘Shmeeglewop’ – two named band members for this recording – the division between stage identity and real life becomes understandable, as I accept this as the only way Japonize Elephants could exist.  It’s not a kitschy decision so much as an evolved idea; this might be why the group sounds so tightly wound, though sprawling sprightly over so many instruments and time signatures.  Compare to Black Twig Pickers – whom I like – whose traditional folk structures inform their overall pitch as a band, or on a different end of the spectrum, Wolfmother – whom I also like – who purposefully nab from influences to update a template – both groups will always be sounds-like, even though it might be used flatteringly in one context or as a criticism of rip-off in the other.  Elephants, however, sound only like themselves.  They are folk, or something, but it’s their own planet of it.

To clarify, I couldn’t name you which album which song is off of, or at many points tell you a distinct difference between every track.  I would normally say this as a sleight, but it’s hardly a point for the band.  The group is able to whip up a 40-minute frenzy, using the slight deviations and forced pauses of a track structure to ebb and flow such that you never get tired or over-exposed.  Will their other albums also net five stars?  We’ll know when we get there.  ‘Bacon Barn’ is a perfectly little capsule – a paced lead in for the opening song, an odd little spoken word doodad near the close that works as a carnival barker announcement of all you’ve just heard, putting the finishing touches on the design of The Japonize Elephants.  I tap my toe the entire time this is on.  Perhaps you will think the disc is dumb, but the group will carry on playin’ in the background regardless, snappin’ their suspenders and wagglin’ buckteeth or something.