The post-rock subgenre has endured multiple transformations over time, transformations that either transcend into the future or are limited to the production of one band (or even one album), living and dying with them. Although post-rock is far from being widely popular, we can almost safely say that there’s been a slow construction of a “mainstream” among its regular listeners. Regardless of personal taste, bands like Explosions in the Sky and Mogwai have become a must when it comes to general references.
Not a small quantity of musicians have taken those bands’ sound and ideas as a starting point of their own, and added to the fact that multiple artists have gone into genre cross-over territory, there’s a whole lot of music that sounds familiar, or at least sounds like something else we’ve heard before. In most cases, we can pin-point exactly what other band has influence over that which we’re hearing. In other cases, we just can’t, and that, I believe, is the case of L’elan Vital’s The Wink and the Gun; while I could call Godspeed in the first track, there’d probably be a great number of people (including Godspeed themselves) that would call me totally mad, and they would have a point. Does this imply a generic sound? Does this imply that we’ll be bored to death? Or does it imply a new type of sound, a “next step” kind of non-linear evolutionary development, driven by the band’s own élan vital?
The Wink and the Gun presents a strange situation in this regard. The tracks, on the surface, sound quite standard, almost uninteresting, their particular details and movement towards a more engaging dynamism ultimately evidenced as part of a planned whole which weakens its purpose, as happens with the “chaotic”, dissonant beginning of “Pop That Collar Chad”: there’s no sense of improvisation, of authentic attack on the ear of the listener; it feels just as ordered as the rest of the track, and it doesn’t last long enough as to produce any kind of uneasiness, but maybe I’m trying to force – too much - my own preconceptions about what certain elements, like dissonance, represent in a track. In this doubt I found the possible strength of an album like this.
The emphasis on drama is developed in a way that turns out to be pretty humorous, with “Ode From The Mountains Of Bothzak” leading the charge with its epic poem-like lyrics full of double-senses that talk of the symbolic love between a heroic knight and the evil witch that he’s bound to slay. When the narrator tells us that the witch wanted the knight to keep cleaving her with his “claymore”, to give a subtle smile is almost inevitable. Under this lens, it’s funny to revisit the track names and find that the title held by the first one is just as solemn as it is ironic: “Trying is the First Step Towards Failure”.
Along with the humor, there’s an overreaching sense of lightness of spirit induced by the simple, non-intense moods of the songs in general. The pieces could be seen as how pop music would sound in a post-rock world. I believe that this is where the album’s strength lies. There is no driving theme, no story arcs. This is a more traditional rock album that, by virtue of belonging to the post-rock genre, is seemingly anti-traditional. L’elan Vital have almost given that “next step”, presenting music that is as mainstream as you can perceive it to be, with all its implicit flaws and advantages, but never betraying, if that is the correct word, the dramatic essence of the genre. The best tracks of the album are not driven by confrontation, deep-ness, or any pretentions of stirring the consciousness or the darker feelings of the audience. Where L’elan Vital gives these intentions a shot (and if we read the comments from their own website, that’s actually their original intention), like in “Terror Alert: Blood Lust Red”, they strip their music of the aforementioned pop sensibility and the results are blandly, maybe horribly, generic. More straightforward rock exercises like “Intolerance Inherent”, in contrast, shine for their distinctive mood-shaping melodies, an element directly harvested from the post-rock fields, which in combination with the simplicity of their song structures make up for an easily digestible experience. Is this a post-rock-pop album? Maybe. The problem is that it still doesn’t know exactly where to tread, and the results are poor and disappointing.
A final warning becomes necessary: if you’re looking for music that moves your soul and touches your emotions or knocks on your brain, you could probably pass on The Wink and the Gun. Same if you’re a veteran of post-rock; you won’t hear anything new here, although you’ll maybe appreciate the pop approach. If you’re a newcomer, this could be a nice addition to whatever it is you’ve started to hear: you’ll see the light-hearted, healthily self-mocking and fun part that the genre has sometimes ignored in favor of complete solemnity. Still, the genre has suffered enough transformations as to make that statement quite relative as well. Where does that leave this album? I guess it’s like a wave in the sea by the beach; they’re countless, but each and every one makes a mark in the sand, a mark that is eventually replaced by the coming of another wave. Not a bad position at all, since those marks are always seen and noted by someone.
-David Murrieta