Label: Polyvinyl Records
Released: September 11, 2007
Some albums are great, because you always want to listen to them and others are great, because sometimes you want to listen to nothing else. Picastro’s third album, Whore Luck, is the latter. It’s a questionable state of mind that would want a steady diet of this album, yet there are likely times for everyone when it’s perfect.
The Toronto-based band combines elements of classical, folk and rock into a unique mix of low-key songs for those less than excitable moments. Straying away from typical rock instrumentation, Picastro employs cello and violin in addition to guitar, piano and drums to provide their odd comfort to the melancholy. Though frequently compared to Godspeed You! Black Emperor, the connection is little more than tenuous, based only on both band’s low-key rock that dabbles heavily in avant-garde classical. Okay, that’s a little more than tenuous, but the comparison should not be overstated. The mood for Godspeed is not the mood for Picastro. Whore Luck is more personal, emotional and accessible than anything Godspeed has offered and that difference is significant. Picastro’s sound is so uniquely theirs, that they pull off covers of both Roky Erickson and the Fall seamlessly, almost as if they weren’t covers at all. Attempts at comparisons will always fail, because there really is no good fit. While this may not make them a hit, they have the potential to appeal to anyone willing to either take the time to pay close attention or abandon themselves to Picastro’s sad beauty.
Liz Hysen’s vocals are subdued and range from shaky and nervous to haunting. Her thin voice doesn’t exhibit a lot of range, but proves to be deceptively dynamic as the cornerstone of the music. The strings provide the drone that drives the songs (to the extent that they are driven) often at several layers, with articulate, but understated percussion acting more as off-kilter accents. The piano is a vehicle of dissonance rather than harmony and guitars add both reassuring jangle and grating noise. Each part on its own would fall, which is likely the source of the music’s madness, while together they buttress each other, which is in turn the source of its comfort. The album’s controlled noise is the soundtrack to being centered in a wobbly world.
Don’t expect this album to be in constant rotation. It doesn’t work that way. But when you need it, when you’re sad or lonely or out of sorts or even just generally melancholy, there will be few albums better than Whore Luck. It won’t pick you up out of your funk, but it will sit with you like a good friend who knows when things need to run their course.
Rating: 7/10
Note: Check out Whole Lotta Album Covers to see my review of the album cover.