FORGET by Xiu Xiu

by Thomas Seraydarian · March 17, 2017

forget

Genre: Art Pop, Noise Pop

Favorite Tracks: “The Call,” “Wondering,” “Get Up,” “Jenny GoGo,” “At Last, At Last,” “Faith, Torn Apart”

Xiu Xiu is an interesting act, virtually unknown by anyone other than those who populate music blogs, but a gargantuan presence in the world of the same. Conceived in the minds of members of late ‘90s experimental rock band Ten in the Swear Jar, Xiu Xiu has produced a surprisingly deep discography, churning out 20 albums in roughly 15 years of actively releasing music. Named after the Chinese film XIU XIU: THE SENT DOWN GIRL, from their inception, Xiu Xiu has almost always focused on emotional currents of deep despair, often utilizing non-traditional instruments and production techniques to increase a sense of alienation and abrasiveness. Of course, frontman Jamie Stewart has always kept a quiet center of pop sensibilities a not-so-secret, and the band’s best works historically strike a queasy balance between beauty and disgust like a fruit on the verge of turning to rot. And, y’know, KLING KLANG, a full-length album that consists of field recordings of 999 pink vibrators taped to the Danh Vo sculpture “We the People” in Brooklyn Bridge Park.

The point is that Xiu Xiu have always been preoccupied with making music that is entirely unafraid of challenging, whether it be their harrowing 2002 debut, KNIFE PLAY, the self-wallowing and emotionally putrid DEAR GOD, I HATE MYSELF, an album of Nina Simone covers, a collaboration with Merzbow, full-length collections of field recordings and drone that are released with no fanfare, or their take on the soundtrack to TWIN PEAKS. So the approaching release of FORGET signalled another uneasy period of anticipation, waiting to see what in the Hell Jamie Stewart and company would come up with. In short, they’ve come up with a pop album, even if that pop album is one that features infamous minimalist Charlemagne Palestine playing the carillon, an instrument almost exclusively found in belfries of churches, members of Los Angeles’s Ballroom community, and a spoken word poem inspired by the pictures of underage children that are prostituted on the website Backpage.

Stewart took the opportunity to use FORGET to academically study the structure of pop music, (although he is wary of letting it be called a “pop” record), and clear examples of this are present in spades, nowhere more so than on album standout “Wondering.” As a longtime listener of the band (if not exactly an official “fan”), “Wondering” is as daring as anything they’ve ever produced for the simple matter of its accessibility alone. With a synthesizer riff and shuffling drum beat that slowly reveals itself as clearly influenced by ORACULAR SPECTACULAR-era MGMT, of all things, this is the first time a Xiu Xiu cut could be organically dropped into a festival DJ set, and it’s all the more memorable for it, especially because it’s juxtaposed with Stewart’s usual lyrical defeatism (“There’s not a chance, there’s never been / Destroyed by color on the wind”). Another standout slice of poptimism is to be found on the track’s chronological successor, “Get Up.” With a laconic guitar riff that will instantly take you all the way back to Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side,” Stewart balances an unnerving and violent surrealism (“During the rape of everything decent / The flickering flames impressed me / A saxophone fell on my face”) with more lush, synthesized transcendence, culminating in a riff that will likely appear on the next Sleigh Bells record.

While Xiu Xiu’s shiny new coat of pop paint doesn’t make itself as explicitly obvious over the course of the rest of the album, structurally, all of the songs are much more straightforward than we’re historically primed to expect. The distorted hums, extraterrestrial chatters, and a clanging freakout that sounds like a Death Grips outro can’t hide the fact that “At Last, At Last” is a lovingly tendered synthpop outing; the bursts of electronic screeches and tinny dungeon synth keyboards still leave plenty of room for the melodic chorus of “Queen of the Losers” to shine bright; all sides of Xiu Xiu perfectly meld on album cornerstone “Jenny GoGo,” a cold wave and industrial synth broil, tortured screams, and tormented warbles a la Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” wreaking havoc on accessible song construction and presentation. It’s all exciting stuff that proves the chamelonic capability of Stewart and his collaborators, the rare occasion when the audience can clearly delineate the artist’s voice despite experimentation with a palette not typically their own.

Of course, this is a Xiu Xiu record, so all the normal gatekeepers that keep the band from widespread popularity are as present as they ever were. Stewart’s fragile, semi-operatic singing style is more tempered than in the past (such as on the tonally incongruous but surprisingly pleasant and orchestral acoustic number “Petite”), but many will still find it unappealing, especially on the more minimal tracks where it’s highlighted, such as the horribly titled “Hay Choco Bananas.” However, the two tracks that will inspire the most polarizing reactions are the bookends to the album, both of which necessitate several listens to fully begin to unpack. Album opener “The Call” kicks down the door with a vocal feature from Banjee Ball superstar Enyce Chanel, sounding like it should have jumpstarted JENNY DEATH, weaving between Stewart’s pining missives, chiptune-inspired chordal work, and some screamed obscenities ripped right from Brokencyde’s cultural paragon I’M NOT A FAN, BUT THE KIDS LIKE IT! It eventually wins over the patient listener, but initially speaks of the tonal incongruity that has always acted as an acquired taste. Meanwhile, closer “Faith, Torn Apart” is unassumingly the most pensive and powerful song on the album, although the Balinese gamelan-inspired drones elicited by the aforementioned Charlemagne Palestine’s carillon and the extensive spoken word poem delivered by New York performance artist Vaginal Davis will send the unassuming running for the hills. A shame, too, as there is a quiet desperation and sadness present that will tear the heartstrings of those that can bring themselves to stick around.

While the potential level of self-awareness and willful provocateurism has occasionally brought the merits of their earlier releases into question, FORGET seems to signal that Jamie Stewart is more willing to play it straight than he ever has. Considered the “official” follow-up to 2014’s ANGEL GUTS: RED CLASSROOM, apparently ignoring the noise tapes and cover albums released since, it’s refreshing to see Xiu Xiu manage to rise above the highly contentious “avant-garde” labels that have dogged them since day one. FORGET is certainly experimental in parts, and will lull you into dancing before cutting the knees right out from under you, but this is was intended to be a collection of “melodic, verse/chorus kind of music…influenced by the history of songs,” and in that regard, Xiu Xiu has resolutely succeeded.

Verdict: Recommend