Mogwai
Young Team
[Jetset]
Rating: 9.7
For all the serrated- edge musical commentary we whip up here at Pitchfork
World Domination Enterprises, we sure are a lazy bunch of motherfuckers. We
sleep in late, spend all day downloading porn and drinking oven cleaner,
watch too much late- nite Cinemax, and generally find new and exciting
ways to miss deadlines. It's a bleedin' miracle we get anything done at
all. Usually, we can get away with being about a month or two behind on
the latest releases, the main reason being because we don't get paid.
But this particular approach to work has its drawbacks. Such as the
shameful situation of an especially good album buried at the bottom of the
ankle- deep pile of as- yet- unreviewed CDs on the floor, and by the time
we get around to listening to it, everyone else already knows about it.
Young Team has been out for well over a year now, long enough for
Mogwai to release a double CD of remixes (of course, it'll probably be
another year before we get around to reviewing that, too). So why review
it now? Call it penance. Call it making up for lost time. This album is so
damn good it's worth a review regardless of extenuating circumstances.
It's been said that the hallmark of an excellent band is the ability to
assimilate the influences of a host of bands that came before them and
reconfigure their sounds into something unique and transcendent. If you're
looking for musical signposts, Mogwai's got 'em in spades-- Tortoise,
Sonic Youth, Slint, and My Bloody Valentine, to name a few. Imagine a
group of emo kids listening to nothing but those bands and watching
2001: A Space Odyssey repeatedly. And then they go and make
Young Team, a collection of religiously epic instrumentals full of
lush, careening guitars that remake shoegazer as stargazer, plaintive
piano interludes, and snippets of phone calls and overheard conversations
drifting through the mix like intercepted radio signals.
Like 2001, Young Team speaks of passion and wonder in its own
intuitive logic. Especially notable tracks include the Slint- spawned monster
"Like Herod," "R U Still In 2 It"'s Aidan Moffat- fortified primer on human
despair, and the sixteen- minute- long, mind- exploding closer "Mogwai Fear
Satan," which is by far the most accurate sonic representation of the Big
Bang theory in the history of music.
The short of it: one of the best frickin' albums of 1997. A judgment over
a year late in arrival. But really now, who's keeping score?
-Nick Mirov