3 out of 5

Label: Secretly Canadian

Produced by: Jake Belser, Sam Crawford (engineered by)

I was collecting the Secretly Canadian label at the time and picked up The Impossible Shapes’ We Like It Wild. It played into some things I appreciated – rolling melodies; Chris Barth’s gentle but not impassive lilt; and a strong rhythm section – pretty, but with a bit of bristle. I remember the beginning of the album quite clearly, and listened to it enough to have instilled the rest into musical memory, but I don’t know that the album really made it onto my top playlist at the time, or even for a bit after. And I was still collecting SC when Horus and Tum came out, and I would sit on those a bit; I get a little bummed out when artists put out music too quickly (not enough time to absorb it!), which pushed it further down the playlist.

But the time came, and I started back up with those two albums. By the time the self-titled The Impossible Shapes came out, I was in it, having filled in the back catalogue and loving this band’s wide-spreading weirdness. Of course, they would retire soon after – you can blame me, I tend to really get into bands and then they split – but they left quite a string of releases to which I can continually return.

…Except for We Like It Wild. It has that bit of nostalgia for me, knowing it came first in my collection, but, as with those initial listens, it’s never really grabbed me. The IS elements are there – mixing in some restless buzz with the breezy, pretty plunking of guitars and keys, and Barth’s somewhat mystical, nature-limned lyrics – but it’s also the most absolutely passive version of the group. (Although the wild guitar freakout that caps the disc is worth the buildup.)

Going back and viewing the discography, it kind of makes sense: their releases are a history of polishing a rawer, Elephant 6 / indie rock sound into a mish-mash of psychedelia influences and off-kilter pop; on either side of We Like It Wild, you have the group at their rockiest, and then the full-on tie-dyed, mythologized, blazing strange of Horus – this album, then, is their transition point. And the Shapes did something interesting with that, taking it rather slow instead of indulging; going minimal as opposed to maximal melange. Wild is stripped down; Barth’s lyrics are fairly sing-songy and repetitive. The flecked details of poppier drumming and distortion atop the folksy strum come at predictable, but satisfying points.

I dig the album. It got replays not out of force, but because it’s an easy listen, with enough dimension to keep you head-bobbing along. But it’s not necessarily the Shapes I crave, rather just the echo of stronger and/or bolder tunes made before and after.