Landscapic Canadian-folk has a unique acoustic blend, which BraveStation has shaken and stirred with ambient post-punk dance, meshing a laid back sound that still rocks out and drives. Their recent 2010 EP has an icy feel mimicking the frozen tundra from which it emerged. Picture the two pairs of them, all bundled up and breathe visible. Freezing in the dead winter night, they sculpt eerie soundscapes as the crowd bobs and sways, while a nearby bonfire cuts through the snow-covered pines surrounding the scene. All is good and well up in Canada.
But anyway, opener “White Wolves” begins. Sounding like a jungle-fused play on Arcade Fire’s “Neon Bible,” hyperclicks and rumbling toms slowly roll into a full-on blaze that excites and calms with every pulse. Meanderings and sudden shifts build up to a surprise ending that blows that shit up with an emerging dance beat that lets you lean back and smile.
“Clocks and Spears” shimmers clicks and splatters, backdroping single lines of quivering vocals. Following is “Colour us With Youth,” whose funk backbone seamlessly slips into a galactic disco ending, but take note: don’t sleep on this one. That ending fucking delivers. Perhaps the most anthemic moment on the album, it leaves you wanting more, which is always a good sign.
This EP gets better with each listen, acquainting you with the sound then keeping you craving another listen. The songs create backdrop scenes, forming a picture in your mind of a distant world, which now seems that much closer. Keep caution, however, because appealing to a patient listener this one could easily pass you by.