Hop Along, Bark Your Head Off, Dog
This Philadelphia band’s complex, literate, off-kilter indie rock gets better with every listen. This could never be pop music, no matter who produced it or what instruments they used. It is too strange, singlar and too unrestrained. Singer Frances Quinlan’s melodic acrobatics are all over the map — “angular” doesn’t begin to cover it — and the rest of the band careens along wildly; the whole thing barely holds together, in the most wonderful way. The same guy who told Mozart he used “too many notes” would’ve said the same to Hop Along and he’d be similarly wrong. The string section, the backing vocals and the occasional synths are apparently new with this album and they offset the band’s punk-infused spirit perfectly. Highlights: “Prior Things,” “The Fox in Motion,” “What the Writer Meant”
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