April 23, 1998
I hate calling it math-rock or post-rock. Like "electronica", it's an industry term rather than an organic one, but what else to call this unique music? What do you call the genre-twisting amalgam of jazz rhythms, crushing metal guitars, whispered, foreboding lyrics, minimalist guitar repetition, dub technology and whatever the hell else the Louisville-Chicago axis spins off?
The first shot fired in post-rock was in 1991 with Slint's Spiderland, an impressive blast of fresh perspective from the heartland. Its extreme dynamics and tricky meters, harmonic adventurousness and bursts of dissonance would shake your fillings loose. A slew of bands have taken up the banner since Slint exploded into countless other bands, but few are as good as June of 44.
Post-rock has always been intriguing and smart - maybe crafty is a better word. Most of it has failed to engage the heart as well as the mind, until now. June of 44 is post-rock to the core with its measured power and complex musical interplay, but they do what most bands in the genre don't dare - they craft real beauty, and make their radically shifting dynamics serve the songs rather than merely cutting and pasting disparate styles. Four Great Points is their best album yet.
Strangely, it's both their most experimental and accessible recording simultaneously, using phasing effects, typewriters and other oddities as enhancements, not gimmicks. "Of Information and Belief" opens with a hypnotic, minimalist guitar line, slouches into a narcotic verse, folds in lilting violin and erupts into dense psychosis before returning. Nice. Elegantly spaced and oddly funky, "The Dexterity of Luck" showcases their outstanding bassist. "Doomsday" toys with harmonics and time signatures in a seductive groove, and the whole album flows with a fierce, clean determination.
A remarkable achievement, Four Great Points marks June of 44 as one of the best, most challenging bands around. Ignore them at your peril.
- Jared O'Connor
Flowing with a fierce,
clean determination