Artist: Islands
Album: Ski Mask
Genre: Indie Rock
Label: Manqué Music

Nick Thorburn has long since established himself as an indie rock mainstay beyond The Unicorns. When Islands first formed, people couldn’t help but compare his new band to his old, wondering if anything they would create could top Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?. With each Islands release being good enough to draw attention but not great enough to make us forget his previous act’s shining moment in the sun, we have to compare the albums by Islands to other Islands albums rather than the body of work that predates it.

This is probably the second best Islands album. The issue is that’s still not as sweepingly positive of a statement as I want it to be. This one fits nicely into the catalog, but the band still lacks a distinctive release. When I think of an Islands song, my mind drifts to “Kids Don’t Know Shit,” “J’aime vous voir quitter,” and “Abominable Snow,” all off of their second album. The follow up to that release was largely weak; 2009’s Vapours was forgettable and though the hipsters loved A Sleep & A Forgetting, it never reached quite the same staying power as Arm’s Way. I’m happy to report that this has more oomph than anything since Arm’s Way, but disappointed to say there are still no songs that really make you truly want to fall in love with Islands.

“Becoming The Gunship” is perhaps the most anthem-like song Nick has ever written, and it still comes off as a bit disjointed; it sounds as though efforts were made by the Montreal band to write a radio rock song that lacked any truly distinctive qualities. Picture Islands writing for a large night club or a small arena, and you can probably dream up this exact song; “Run away, runs away, you don’t want to be here when I hit ‘em all” might be a nice little anti-war ditty, but it’s not great songwriting. The most entertaining part of the whole song might be the outro, which in itself is the most typical part of the song. Is typical bad? No, but when your shining moments feel like ideas that were taken out of the oven too soon, what does that say?

The track that follows, “Nil,” is a childish pop ditty that also serves to be one of the highlights on the album. The rhythm section goes for a jangly country feel, with the bass guitar going melodic from time to time, pulling some McCartney-esque playing and providing space for the vocals. The melodies on this song – and largely the whole album – are catchy at all times. The issue is that the album lacks depth, personality, and a certain amount of heart I’d have hoped they found. “Sad Middle” and “Shotgun Vision” both sound like a passionate ode to The Big Lebowski soundtrack, but there are also songs like “Hushed Tones,” which comes off like a cookie cutter song with added percussion. When this band is focused, they are tight and golden; but too often the spaces in between clever songwriting are filled with repeating the same indie rock archetypes we’ve heard a thousand times before – and done better a thousand times before.

I also want to give this one song its own paragraph: the final track on the album, “Winged Beat Drums,” is perhaps my new favorite song by Islands and is up there with anything Nick’s ever done. Part of me wishes that was the lead single so I could’ve had higher expectations for this album going in, but what’s done is done. The soothing chorus and the unusual guitar to the verse form a great indie rock jam that this band hasn’t produced in years.

Overall, this album is almost undeniably a fun and good listen. Whether you find yourself falling in love with these songs is another issue entirely; it feels as though this is yet another release by Islands to fall in like with. Nothing wrong with that, but I will maintain holding out hope that there are songs in this band that are on par with their early work and the Unicorns’ work… and this just isn’t quite that.

Score: 7.4/10
Review by: Dan Bogosian (Twitter)

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Dan Bogosian

I finished school with a music theory degree. Before I finished school, I was a janitor. You really should apologize to all the janitors you've ever had. You hurt them. Seriously. You did.

But, now that we've cleared that up and you called your high school janitor, know that I quit being a janitor to pursue writing about music. So here I am, and here you are, and hey how are you?

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