Blonde Redhead makes return

By Carolina Astrain

Published April 17, 2007

After a two-year hiatus, Blonde Redhead has returned to revitalize the indie scene with its ninth album, 23. The trio, composed of Kazu Makino and Italian twin brothers Amedeo and Simone Pace, has created an album perfectly suited for welcoming summer winds in thinning pieces of clothing.

Its first track begins with a progressive beat accompanied by subtle Japanese-accented English vocals by Makino, who also joins Amedeo in playing one of the two guitars. After rocking out for more than a decade and the unavoidable band-member metamorphosis, the core of Blonde Redhead still retains its original sound with huff-and-puff vocals that are accented by pulsing guitar and drums.

The beginning of 23 sounds like a conglomeration of the introductions from "Believe Me Natalie," by The Killers and "Summer Skin," by Death Cab for Cutie.

"Dr. Strangeluv," the strongest track on the album, incites a kind of hope with leaping hellos into the following tracks and is met with the struggle found within "The Dress."

"Spring and By Summer Fall," violently transitions into "Silently," which succumbs into apologies and renounces faults previously accused. "Silently," is swayable, and one could even go as far as drinking strawberry smoothies to this tune.

Adding a masculine element to the vocals, is "Publisher," which looms into a darker side of early adolescence clashing fears of adulthood.

"Heroine," delves into the displacements of pairs and speaks of the sea. Once more, Makino's vocals are beautiful and anchor Blonde Redhead's claim to fame as an indie band capable of obscure emotion.

The step down taken from the Bollywood actress shrieks found in "Elephant Woman" to the pop-curved tone found in 23's "Top Ranking" is what distinguishes it from recent album Misery Is a Butterfly.

The album's lyrics speak predominately about the importance of making haste against the threatening leer of time. "My Impure Hair" ends the album with questions of purity and refers decadence as belonging to everyone. The broken style of the fragmented lyrics aids in the continual upkeep of the album's reverberating melody.

The bonus track, "(We Are a Real Team) Harry and I," isn't as pulp as the other songs and sounds predominately instrumental with small bits of lyrics that are hardly audible in the synthesized fuzz.

The only other singer who could be compared to Mankino is Lali Puna's vocalist Valerie Trebeljahr. Although the voices are similar, Blonde Redhead is still a bird of an entirely different feather in the sense that it places more emphasis on a stream of stretched words, and Lali Puna is curt and has an increased variety of sound.

If you're a fan of experimental-indie sounds, this is an album you should quickly add to your iTunes purchased play list and mark as the prelude to a summer of disjointed messages bound by synth-infused sound.