Poliça Brings Dark Side of Electronica to The Parish in Austin

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Austin—Another weekend of ACL brings another weekend of Late Night sets. This time I wound up on 6th Street west of I-35 to see Poliça, the Minneapolis electronic group that has been releasing music for two years, starting with 2012’s Give You the Ghost and following that up with last year’s Shulamith. Their music is watermarked by weighty, lush, catharsis-eluding songs, and an autobiographical bent that makes me think Trent Reznor. Liberal artists may recognize the homage to second-wave feminist writer Shulamith Firestone, which I would unpack if this were an English class.

The short version is that it’s pretty grim, complex, and, if you read interviews with lead singer Channy Leanagh, deeply personal. It’s music that may not be doing justice to itself live, where lyrics are half-heard through crowd noise and Lone Star. This isn’t an academic question; when the songs’ voices come through, carried by anti-cathartic sound and stage presence, they shape this live experience into something spooky, mournful, and energetic—a release of tremendous emotional pressure. Poliça’s music deserves listening-time through good speakers, but if you’re into something darker, then you should be looking at their tour calendar.

“Chain My Name” is a signature track from Shulamith, and a place where the personal hurt of the lyricist is tough to miss. “So are we just made to fight all our lives?” and complementary “Chain my name” carry the message of a broken marriage pretty clearly, helped by a pounding backbeat, clapping accents, and tinkling arpeggio that carries a great hook. It’s a bit of a strange tension between the music and the meaning, but in the best tradition of Joy Division and Why Can’t I Be You”-style Robert Smith.

In terms of rhythm and pace, the songs don’t necessarily stay close to “Chain My Name.” “Dark Star,” a dedication to the singer’s child, sticks sort of close to the formula, though with more distant melodies and an almost-unmixed positivity from the singer. Besides that most of Poliça’s songs take on a slow, plodding beat, but gain drama and fill out with the addition of loud, high-powered synthesizers or rapid-fire drums. A good example of the latter is “Lay Your Cards Out,” with a relatively thin production but clattering drums that build toward the end of the song. For the former, look to “Matty,” a song whose near end-to-end quiet is split up in places by walls of sound.

When the song doesn’t make it obvious, Leanagh lets you know what she’s going for. “Warrior Lord,” was described as “a little love song for you.” It’s a song about love, anyway. And it’s groovy, too, though not quite funk. But these brass-sounding synths and tapping wood-block rhythms join background lyrics like “I can’t reach my love where you’re wasting away.” Rounding out that part of the set was “Torre,” another slow, thumping rhythm with lots of bass and distant vocals about a toxic lover.

It’s probably asking too much of these songs to fully express themselves in a live setting. Shows aren’t typically a place people go to digest lyrics. Plus, it’s an often-ignored dimension of pop music—there’s still a high annual rate of people surprised to discover that Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” isn’t very patriotic. But it’s something tough to ignore with Poliça. The heavy sound that drew you to the show is informed by a deep hurt, and even if you’re not listening you’re likely going to catch snippets of it—“Ever wonder why you call me, All your fantasies drift by slowly.” For a certain lucky kind of person, this is going to make it a very special set.

If it’s your thing, Poliça has dates all over the Western US in the second half of October. I highly recommend it, and urge you to take the time to listen to their records before you go.

Will Jukes

Will Jukes

Will Jukes has lived in Texas his whole life. It doesn’t bother him as much as you’d think. A Houston native, he studied English at the University of Dallas before moving to Austin in search of the coveted “Grand Slam” of Texas residencies. He comes to music journalism from a broad reporting background and a deep love of music. The first songs he can remember hearing come from a mix tape his dad made in the early 90’s that included “Born to Run,”, “End of the Line,” by the Traveling Wilburys, the MTV Unplugged recording of Neil Young’s “Cowgirl in the Sand,”, and “The Highwayman,” by The Highwaymen. He has an enduring love for three of these songs. Over the years he has adored punk, post-punk, new wave, house, disco, 90’s alternative rock, 80’s anything, and Townes Van Zandt. He’s not sorry for liking New Order more than Joy Division.
Will Jukes