Another winner from one of last year’s best albums.
These Twin Peaks dudes seem to be obsessed with heads: animal heads, no heads, balloon heads. And they’re in a number of different locales; maybe too many to hit up in a single day. Makes you wonder if they did squeeze it all into 24 hours, or if those animal masks are the sort of thing they wear on a regular basis.
Did you know Creepy Horse Mask is a lifestyle now? Check it out.
The Telescope presents: the top albums of 2016. We gathered best-of lists from staff and contributors, crunched some numbers and came up with a list of records that unanimously wowed us this year.
Down In Heaven’s opener, “Walk To The One You Love,” boasts such an obvious melodic nod to “Bang A Gong (Get It On)” that you may not believe what you’re hearing. You get the sense pretty quickly, on this one, that Twin Peaks have no interest in limitations—“a band that doesn’t know how to play it safe,” says their bio.
There’s plenty more T. Rex lingering in this album. And the Stones. Maybe some Kurt Vile. Twin Peaks took the last 40 years of rock ’n’ roll, threw it in a sack, shook it and pulled out 13 singular vibes to use as jumping-off points. They employ at least three lead singers on top of it—this is peak eclecticism.
They’re caught up in the same pitfalls that four decades of rock has failed to resolve, as well: longing; self-pity; failed relationships. “Life seems to be all confusion and woe,” they’ve decided, but they pull off a cheery disposition in the face of that conclusion. Down In Heaven is a celebration of despair, in the style of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s Howl or any Deadly Snakes record; check out “Butterfly,” up above.
An innerspace roller coaster in a cartoon world where everyone’s lips are unusually large. For some reason, it makes us think of a Simpsons couch gag. Maybe everything makes us think of The Simpsons.
This vid was illustrated by Chicago artist Goons (did you catch the Cubs and Blackhawks imagery?), whose goal is apparently “to become a global icon and inspire millions.” Twin Peaks, also from the Windy City, released their Down In Heaven full-length earlier this year.
We’re clearly dealing with a krautrock vibe, here, but this also feels like a Stella Artois commercial.
It’s a little Lynchian as well: the old dude singing Willie Nelson tunes, the forlorn woman and man in a leisure suit that stroll around like they’re window shopping—what does it all mean?
Oh, the band released a statement describing the video; it should be helpful: “‘Vision’s’ was written as a song about losing focus. The video suggests a distorted environment/context that plays on the musical aesthetic of the song and reinforces Absolutely Free’s ethos.”
Perhaps not. “Vision’s”—we’ll assume the extraneous apostrophe was deliberate—comes from Absolutely Free’s debut full-length of 2014 (it wasn’t quite self-titled; they added a period: Absolutely Free.).
Imagine what it might sound like if The Rolling Stones had remained relevant past 1972.
While Chicago’s Twin Peaks bear little resemblance to the Lynchian production they’re named for (seems they’d never even watched Twin Peaks when they chose the name), they do owe plenty to Jagger and crew’s more raucous outings. They’re also tuned into a modern stream of psychedelic folk and a barely-tangible splash of something from the ’80s—not the sort of pedigree you’d expect from a bunch of kids that are barely into their 20s (if that).
Wild Onion is relentlessly catchy (evidenced by “Making Breakfast,” below), built on simple, relatable themes (girl troubles), and probably the first 16-song album I’ve come across that isn’t in need of editing.
You can catch Twin Peaks twice at Canadian Music Week: May 7 at Lee’s Palace at 11:00 and May 8 at the Horseshoe at 11:00.