Wilderness guitarist Colin McCann's spindly, twangy work owes a significant debt to Gang of Four's Andy Gill, and between that and vocalist Jim Johnson's atonal declamations, the band frequently draws comparisons to post-punk bands like the Fall and Public Image Ltd. It's possible, however, to hear an entirely different set of connections on (k)no(w)here. McCann's guitar also has a chiming, martial quality; drawn out into long, slow, harmonically static songs, coated in reverb and backed by William Goode's stately drumming on a muted kit, it recalls the emo-influenced indie-rock practiced in the '90s by minimalist bands like Boilermaker and, early in their career, Cursive. Johnson, for his part, could be a beefed-up version of U.S. Maple's Al Johnson (no relation, presumably) or Make Believe-era Tim Kinsella. Like the latter, Johnson has the air of a feral prophet. It's very easy to hear his strange bellowing as that of a man driven to speaking in tongues by the drama that his band's chant-like rock generates. On (k)no(w)here's last three songs, a periodic extended climax more than 20 minutes long that dominates the record, Wilderness plays two kinds of music at once: a cold meditation on harmony and dynamics, and a searing, animalistic cry of primeval emotion.
Find everything you're looking for in your city
Find the best happy hour deals in your city
Get today's exclusive deals at savings of anywhere from 50-90%
Check out the hottest list of places and things to do around your city
