Plants and Animals - ParcAvenue

Mon 16th Feb, 2009 in Music Reviews

The opening gambit on Plants and Animals’ debut album Parc Avenue is called Bye, Bye, Bye. It has lots of instruments, a full-bloodied, melodramatic vocal and an anthemic orchestral coda cunningly designed to make your ears swoon. Oh, and the band are from Montreal. Hang on, haven’t we already pledged allegiance to this particular brand of maple leaf music at the altar of Arcade Fire?

Don’t be fooled. Plants and Animals certainly do owe some debt to their Canadian compatriots but only because Arcade Fire’s Sarah Neufeld lends the band her considerable talents. Bye, Bye, Bye is not much more than a respectful pit-stop at Arcade Fire’s door before Plants and Animals take you by the hand and lead you down Parc Avenue and its delectable curios and diversions.

Around the corner from Bye, Bye, Bye is Good Friend. Shrugging shoulders at its neighbour’s bombast, Good Friend’s lengthy running time encourages you to linger while it cools the boots with understated – œ70s psychedelia and a luxurious string section. Don’t stay too long though: up the road resides the amiable split personality of Faerie Dance. It introduces itself as a pleasant alt-country amble before cutting to a bluesy electric guitar and strident strings; a piano abruptly interjects, trickling into an easy-come-easy-go guitar and folky la-la-las.

Clumsy – œavenue’ puns aside, such a jumble of sounds and influences could land the less accomplished in hot water. Cast the musical net too wide, have too much slack in the arrangements and suddenly you have an album that sounds like a collection of outtakes from other artists or a bunch of rambling jam sessions. Fortunately Plants and Animals have crafted Parc Avenue from varying shades of the same vibrant colour rather than an awkward palette of mismatched hues.

It’s the production that glues everything together. The analogue recording has none of the cold and impersonal touches that digital can sometimes render. Whether it’s coaxing tremulous notes from the delicate guitar work on Early in the Morning or keeping Warren Spicer’s vocal just on the right side of New Kind of Love’s mid-point maelstrom, the recording always sounds lovingly handmade; put together piece by piece with a close eye on the detail.

Although the album has a gorgeous organic feel, that doesn’t mean it gets mired in wholegrain piety. There’s an acidic bite to the Broken Social Scene-inspired Feedback in the Fields via a sleazy wah-wah pedal and rubbery bassline. Similarly, Mercy has attitude aplenty courtesy of some sassy cheerleader style chants (think Smog’s Bloodflow rather than half-time at the NRL) bolted onto the back of a bunch of handclaps, grunting saxophones and frenetic improvised guitar.

Parc Avenue is expansive and ambitious yet accessible and intimate. However, the album’s strength doesn’t really lie in any of these things. What makes this debut so appealing is how carefully Plants and Animals have nurtured each and every moment. There’s an investment of time, energy and emotion here that has turned something worth listening to into something truly impressive.

Parc Avenue is out now on Pod through Inertia.