A Closer Listen
Melbourne post-rockers The Boats do not work fast. Their first album was recorded in 2004 and released in 2007. Their second was recorded in 2006/07 and released in 2015. Their latest was recorded in 2017 and released in 2023 as a celebration of their 20th anniversary as a band. Still, taking one’s time can sometimes be a good thing. In this case, it allowed for remixing, mastering and vinyl production. And of course much post-rock is slow by nature, relying on long, patient builds rising to thunderous payoffs. This is the case here, and fans of classic post-rock bands will find plenty to love in these grooves; keep in mind that despite their limited discography, The Boats are only nine years younger than GY!BE and four years younger than EitS.
First we have to talk about those bears. The “bear track,” “Hunter,” is extremely disturbing, due to samples of an exuberant hunter who brags about bagging brown bears, three in a week, including the biggest he’s ever seen. He both loves the species – calling the bear “a horse,” “a beast,” “a giant” and “an awesome animal” – and loves killing them, laughing all the way. “Hunter” leads directly into the testosterone-laden title track. The cover art displays two people, perhaps a man and a boy, wrestling while wearing bear heads. And yet there are no bears in Australia, save for the less than intimidating koala. So what are these two bears? Our guess is that they are akin to the two wolves in the Native American tale, representing the sides of human nature. The mid-track even includes growling. Since 2017, Australia has seen its share of wildfires, political strife and (although they did better than most) COVID. Which force will win, optimism or pessimism, hope or fear, altruism or selfishness?
The entire album makes sense when seen through this lens. The melancholic bass line of “2 Bears” sixth minute seems to support this theory, as well as the rising brass, a contrast to the militaristic snare of “Hunter.” The album’s post-rock valleys seem like trouble brewing, the eruptions of guitar and drums like conflicts, the violin and cello adding gravitas. The album’s opener – which is alone worth the price of admission – is “Beasts of the Brume,” meaning heavy mist or fog, obscuring the dangers that lie in wait. The track begins with crickets and an animal call (or a human imitating an animal) followed by gunshots that may or may not hit their mark. Then the guitars begin loping in, like unkillable beasts. Once the drums enter, the conflict seems inevitable. A brief lull at the four-minute mark presages the entrance of the strings, and from this point on, the music is sublime. A reset at the five-minute mark means the band is ready to leap into Phase Two, which it does with aplomb. The final three minutes are like an army marching up a hill, watching an enemy retreat, then planting a flag and flexing for the photographer.
This maximum drama will be repeated at album’s end. The crescendos of “For Juno” and “Cider” are so incredible that one imagines a band discussion over which would become the album closer. They are also vastly different. “For Juno”s crescendos come in waves, borne by brass rather than guitar, supported by flurries of drums: an orchestral dispersion that should bring concertgoers to their feet. “Cider” begins in ambient fashion and makes fans wait – no, beg, for one more gift of largesse, which doesn’t arrive for seven minutes; but when it does, it is glorious.
Just as an expansive post-rock crescendo is worth the wait, so was 2 Bears; we just hope The Boats won’t make us wait quite so long next time. (Richard Allen)
Sat Jun 17 00:01:42 GMT 2023