Since the mid-90s a prerequisite to signing for Sub Pop has often been a self-funded journey around various North American no-wave and noise indies before reaching a certain musical maturity and joining the signature lottery for the legendary Seattle imprint as a kind of indie gratuity. The label having somewhat regained its cool in the last decade which has helped Jo Passed bunny-hop all comers straight onto the coveted roster with the sort of effortless style-as-no-style the label was originally famed for. Founded by Jo Hirabayashi and his friend and drummer Mac Lawrie, the noisy Vancouver quartet started out as various lo-fi vehicles for Jo’s odd musical aspirations. At some point they picked up two additional members in multi-instrumentalist Bella and bassist Megan, successfully fleshing out into much mathier terrain albeit one built on the slacker and grunge foundations the iconic label is famous for while retaining the band’s fiercely DIY work ethic (the album launch will be at their old haunt, Vancouver’s soon to be closed Red Gate Arts Society).
Lead single ‘Glass’ was the sort of wonky art-rock last seen stalking the corridors of Jagjaguwar or 4AD but with the sort of dreamy laidback vocals that draw the “fucked-up Beatles” comparisons. In actual fact the effect-heavy vocals are more in the spirit of Django Django and while it would be easy to put an MGMT or Luke Steele hat on them, musically Their Prime owes more to the experimental deviance of Can and Neu!, the more contemporary twists and turns of Car Seat Headrest or, closer to home, Sunderland’s up and coming Roxy Girls. it’s a paradigm that works well if you like your alt. both agitated and feet up, a little stoned. Follow ups ‘Millennial Trash Blues’ and ‘MDM’ were similar restless shoegaze experiments, the latter a fuzzy descendant of The Wallace Collection’s ‘Day Dream’ and it’s when the music lets the songs breathe Jo Passed are at their best.
Generally faster paced than previous EPs Up and Out while the mathier excursions are peaks in originality, opener ‘Left’’s orchestral flourishes deceive us into a false sense of security and may give a glimpse into a wilfully contrary mindset, or the flamenco/Love swirls of ‘Undemo’, the self-evident title perhaps reflecting the enterprise in the songwriting even at the earliest stages. Then there is the deep irony on snippet ‘Facetook’ that needs no further explanation and roughs up the already natural veneer of this record.
On occasion the quieter/louder aesthetic is like a lo-fi Mew or a kind of deconstructed Cocteau Twins as on ‘You, Prime’ and it’s here when Their Prime really allows itself to develop naturally rather than trying to shoehorn as much as possible into two verses and a chorus. ‘Repair’ evolves gracefully from beautifully formed dream-pop into a crashing monolith of stadium indie. And they square the album circle quite nicely with the tinkered orchestra of ‘Places Please’ most worthy of the burdensome Beatles tag. And on doing so Jo Passed achieve that delicate balance of euphoric highs and head-on urgency without falling off the tightrope.
Their Prime is out now on Sub Pop.
