I have to admit that it’s been a while since a rock band was able to give me that real “woah” factor without resorting to completely deconstructing everything altogether. That’s not to say Polish quartet Trupa Trupa doesn’t break away from form, or experiment with style by any means. But instead of crumpling our old pal rock and roll into its palm, the band circles around concrete songs, stretching and plying them into dazzling displays of sonic architecture that immediately stopped me in my tracks. Somewhere between Radiohead, Faust, Pink Floyd, and maybe a few more of your favorites from your favorite bygone eras, Trupa Trupa’s songs sketch the portrait of a band in something of a genre-fluid state that is nonetheless fully-formed and consistent in its generally downcast and stormy trajectory. Solid foundations are laid out for each tune to mold into tempered explosions, drawing climaxes out with patience and precision, engulfing the psyche with monsoons of noise while subconsciously shocking the neuron in your brain in charge of throwing up the horns to life — this all before any given tune could drop off the edge of the cliff into the calming, cooling pools of beautiful coda below. There’s a healthy bout of straight rockers and humbling ballads alike here to give Headache its welcome sense of variety. But that would mean little if the group didn’t commit as they do to each number, every song a new arena for the members to flex their very capable instrumental muscles — completely solid work across the board, from studious and atmospheric organ playing, drums deep in the pocket of plodding tempo, buzzsaw bass tearing the mix in half, silvery guitars slipping through the sluice, all the way to that pitch-perfect vocal ringing out over it all. It’s 2015, everyone, and did you hear? Bands are back in a big way, and Trupa Trupa is hands-down among the very best of them.
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