Wolf and Cub: "Thousand Cuts"

First off, I have no idea what singer Joel is yarring about in these staccato bleats, and I don’t think it matters much, as the experience of his voice between his sweating guitar, between Adam and JC’s handclaps and generous cymbals, is that of forcing a listener’s skull down the vocalist’s foppish, lithe throat. Maybe, since they’ve signed to 4AD, liner notes will uncover a semantic dance of poetic wonder, but until then, “Thousand Cuts” is all desperation and ugly sex.

This, the single, may be behind Wolf & Cub’s success in Australia, where they may have pre-blissed the fans at Big Day Out. It works. Baby’s a wallop, slapping the cheeks and dancewoods of any darling with a pulse. Sometimes gross, but never messy, they sound Mclusky tight, Franz Ferdinand right, like, so saucy, so catchy it can’t be wrong. And the bridge is Funk on Yer FACE, the double-tracked cymbals and drums losing control before Joel’s seizuring line admits the arrangement as a magic trick, superhuman just in how ravenous it can seem.

The only problem I can dredge from my huskiest of endocrine glands is how deep in the mix bass player Tom’s work is set. He’s as swift and as nimble as each guy in the band, but almost totally swarmed out of the equation. Oh well, here comes venerable 4AD! Does it mean more credit for the most commonly ignored member of your typical four-piece? Probably not; the top’s blistering as it is. It’s nice to dream, though.