Xiu Xiu - The Air Force

There is a lot of pretentious bullshit written about Xiu Xiu:
“Over the last five years, Xiu Xiu has come to make an utterly original mixture of home-studio goth-pop, confessional singer-songwriter outpourings and chamber music.” - THE NEW YORK TIMES

" The Air Force is a wraith, and wraithlike it moves according to genuine, human rhythms; we see frontman Jamie Stewart staring into the void, or into the past, or dipping his hands into the sick pink hues of human grease, into bad love, suicide, rape, sex, stormy friendship, domination, dependency, with husky voiced lyrics that come rising up like steam from some deep and dark and cold dungeon miles below Earth's surface." - KILL ROCK STARS

“It takes a true songwriter like Stewart to make such brutality meaningful…Xiu Xiu are one of the few indie bands that's still challenging their audience” - UNDER THE RADAR

Nevertheless, much of it is true. This is by far and away Xiu Xiu's best record. It is not just more accessible, but the brief patches of catchiness and pattern are destroy with deft timing, like gently caressing your forearm with a razor blade before driving it hard into your skin.

"Bishop, CA" is the track that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. The "walla walla walla walla walla walla hey" hook over industrial beats and a thick guitar lead is enough to make even the most skeptical critic take notice. Caralee McElroy's vocals on "Hello From Eau Claire" will make you want to marry her; she ends her list of what she can do with "I can humiliate myself to your face. I can weep through my own midnights." Not since the Magnetic Fields has such a minimalist synth line been so attractive.

The lyrics that are drawning the most critical attention ("Your black hair is like black hair. Mine I promise is a jerk's hair. Your acne is like a pearl. Mine I swear is brimstone.") from Buzz Saw sound the usual Xiu Xiu theme of beauty in imperfections, and in "The Pineapple vs. the Watermelon", his ruminations on his father suicide are as usual disarmingly honest ("The bird I am looking for is not in me. It is you.")

However, it is the unexpected rhythms--the industrial beats out of nowhere, the lush acid crush basslines, the complete dissonace--that emerge half-way through "PJ in the Streets", "Vulture Piano", "The Fox & The Rabbit" or "Save Me Save Me" that really make this record so special. You have to give it time to work its magic on you, but like the proverbial perverted old man who lives under the bridge, it will haunt and touch you if you let it.

The cover art includes an icon of Jesus, and it is surprisingly appropriate. Once I had accepted it, listening to this music become a regilious experience, absorbing me totally, and at the height of an orgasmic crescendo, the whole thing comes crashes down in one giant kick to the face. I cannot mix metaphors fast enough here. The record is fucking brilliant.
- kit