A few years ago I saw a (the?) Promise Ring reunion show. I'm a big fan and I was very sure I'd never hear them live. Tim Kinsella's band, Make Believe, opened the show and were kind of a mess, which was the point. The band was tight, but Tim's vocals dominated the mix and he was trashed, referring to things as "a happy meal for the future" and just generally letting everyone know that he was tripping. It was like watching a train wreck and once it became clear that this train wreck, whether semi-planned or not, was the only thing between a sold out Metro and the Promise Ring, the crowd became very irritated. Tim's victory lap began there, but it didn't end until he rushed onto stage during the Promise Ring's set, grabbed a mic, and proceeded to sing out of time and off key to whatever song they were playing. The band didn't stop, but they cut power to the mic and Tim was escorted off stage. This is all to say that Tim Kinsella is pretty good at going out of his way to irritate a lot of people - to really see how inaccessible he can make his art while still maintaining at least some contact with the scene that has cherished him since Cap'n Jazz was some hot shit. He, and people like him, play an important role in artistic communities by chipping away at the outer barriers of what is appropriate and acceptable and thus, theoretically, broadening what can be accepted in the mainstream. Example: Lil Wayne's stream of consciousness lyrics probably wouldn't be so accepted if independent hip hop artists hadn't been toying around with that kind of shit for a while. There are plenty of reasons why he is commercially viable, but being groundbreaking isn't one of them.

Joan of Arc, Tim Kinsella's band following Cap'n Jazz, saw him in his familiar role: twisting and tormenting indie rock into something bittersweet and fairly inaccessible. "The Life Cumulative" experiments with electronic noises and chopped up drum fills to the point that the listener can't even focus on the oddly-timed guitar riffs that seem to peak in from the edges. Tim's vocals are abrasive and never really smooth out to the point that the listener feels comfortable. But the refrain "you've got such a pretty voice but you got to get so fucked up to sing" always sticks around in my head and no matter how much Tim strains his voice and squeaks his way out of his range, there is something interesting and sincere to his melody. I guess I find it catchy. Then again, maybe I've known too many people who only feel comfortable in a stupor or who seem just a little too excited to push the limits of their consumption.

I guess I should also say that I think the experimentation works well here. The bridge is essentially a deconstruction of the drums and the electronic accompaniment and it expectedly sounds chaotic and directionless. The band comes back in a cohesive push and even though that cohesive push consists of the same off-key singing and intricate guitar riffs, it sounds forceful and meaningful. I think it redefines the song on subsequent listens, making it more and more palatable.

Joan of Arc - "This Life Cumulative"