Snakes and Arrows





Rhiannon is an old soul. Instead of nodding off to shoe-gazing neo-psychedelia, she has discovered the arguable pleasures of prog rock (progressive rock to all the Cool Kids out there on the Interweb). And I'm not talking the newbiefied low-fi high-concept sounds of Coheed and Cambria or the BrianWilsonized emotive brain trust of Animal Collective. Rhiannon takes it straight, no chaser, with Canada's most famous export, Rush.


This power trio has been putting out records since the invention of vinyl and their latest release (May 1 on Anthem), Snakes and Arrows, is a solid contribution to the canon of straight-ahead, by-the numbers math-rock using secret formulae first cooked in the crucible of the Heavy '70s informed additionally by Newton's alchemical notebooks discovered earlier in the century, probably by drummer-cum-philosopher Neil Peart.


Anyway, to make a short story long, Rhiannon digs it as a welcome alternative to mom's penchant for Stevie Nicks and '70s corporate rock, smooth enough to becalm Captain Morgan's pleasure boat. Last night, after dishes, Rhiannon and I sat on the kitchen floor for our own private listening party. When the so-many-time-changes-I-think-we-must-be-in-a-doctor-who-episode intrumental track came on ("The Main Monkey Business"), Rhiannon started head-banging. Not because she wanted the song to stop, but because she really liked the 9/7 time signature and minor chord progressions and diminished fifths. Or something. She really grooved on it. And that, my friends, warmed my heart like so many burning Eagles albums.


Rhiannon. Progressively cute.


Andrew (Papa)