If they were to give out an award to people who have used the garage punk springboard to bounce off into many a different direction sound wise Montreal's Roy Vucino would sport one of the biggest blue ribbons in the planet.
From the soul sprinkled and Slade stomp of the Daylight Lovers and Les Sexareenos drunken frat rock trash bashing to the CPC Gangbangs hard rockin' action and the fever dream frazzled sounds of Red Mass there has always been that something in the projects he is part of that take things if not at least to a higher level don't just simply rehash the the obvious things within the particular genre over and over again.
His latest thing, PyPy, continues with that.
Starting off with a downstroked and heavily distorted chugging like a train on jagged tracks, the album's namesake builds up a head full of steam til it explodes into a mess of guitar splatter. The noise gives singer Annie-Claude Deschênes (her of Duchess Says) the cue to lure listeners in with a flirtatious sneer telling tales while the band hammers away at a calamitous Velvet Underground "White Light/White Heat" goes space rock vibe.
Some the tracks have more than a tinge of avant funk/dub reggae reminiscent of the Slits and the No Wave scene to them. "New York" Roy and Annie trade off lines over an replete with wrung out chicken scratch guitar piece that wobbles then propels into head first in overdrive trashing for a bit before it returns to a woozy groove. "Daffodils" fools the listener at first thinking the song is simply gonna let them bob their head in some type of stoned zone til a roar similar to jet engines shreds eardrums to ribbons while "Too Much Cocaine" takes the same basic ingredients too and makes it much more antsy inducing spasmodic dance moves all over the room.
The song most likely to appease the folks are are looking for the standard "garage rock" thing here would most like be "Molly" and "Ya Ya Ya/Psychedelic Overlords". The former is all fuzzed out guitar buzzing over the place as well as something sinister lurking right underneath the surface of Annie's voices but since it doesn't ape the Troggs or Chuck Berry they may write if off as art rock. It's their loss if they do though.
The latter, with a sideways reference to a Hawkwind song in it's title, may go over their heads but then again I think a lot of those types are even oblivious to the fact that anymore only douchebags like Guy Fieri are ones left who wear bowling shirts with flames on them. The flames this song is about are the type a flying saucer would make after it slams into the surface of the earth taking a small town with it.
Sure, we're only 8 weeks in to 2014 but I am going to go out on a limb and say already that this is one of my favorite albums of this year.