Old Islands Mostly Dead, Long Live The New Islands

Watching Islands frontman Nick Thorburn, not unlike famed wrestler Sting with his white-painted face and sweat-drenched brown hair, perform another expansive epic from the group's upcoming sophomore disc makes for two distinct possibilities concerning the future of Islands: either he's gone completely over the deep end and the band have been reduced to an external outlet for his many meandering, unfocused thoughts; or the group are actually one step closer to achieving his original vision of what they should be.

That statement requires a bit of background explanation. A few months before the 2005 release of Islands' first record, Return To The Sea, the original lineup launched the album at the same club to a crowd swept up in the fervour of Thorburn's previous band The Unicorns massive critical acclaim and subsequent dismantling, along with the cartoonish, hoedown quaintness of the Islands mp3s circulating on the internet. The show was held on the eve of the implementation of a city-wide smoking ban and, while the future of local live music clubs was much in question thanks to this brave new world with breathable air, Club Lambi presented one of the final opportunities to smoke out a lung, enjoy the freedoms of a pre-nanny state and treasure an expanding local product before it was all extinguished permanently. In front of a packed house of perhaps 200, cigarettes weren't the only things on fire. Islands put on a symbolic show that really made you believe the eccentric genius that dwelled in every corner of the Montreal music scene was ready to explode on an unsuspecting world.

Fast forward nearly three years, and implosion would be the word better associated with Islands. Drummer Jamie Thompson and guitarist Jim Guthrie are long gone, Thorburn has rediscovered his proper last name after going by "Diamonds" for a while, and they switched labels, entrusting Anti- to release Arm's Way on May 20.

"We're on a new label," said Thorburn at one point to the crowd, "and I couldn't be happier about that."

Considering the unceremonious retirement of Thorburn's hated "Rough Gem" and a thoroughly vicious reappraisal of Return To The Sea at last year's Pop Montreal, the three-quarters filled venue and its patrons seemed to understand the old Islands were essentially dead.

That turned out to not be entirely true. "Swans," "Volcano" and "Don't Call Me Whitney" were all played, albeit the latter with so much disinterest (complete with half-hearted "do-dos" from Thorburn) that it was obvious that particular song was a concession to the walk-in crowd whose only personal investment in the band is to yell out "fuck what you've heard/you've been lied to," with a beer-spitting giggle. Contrary to popular belief, the often self-contradictory Thorburn doesn't hate Return To The Sea, he just hated the kitschy, sunny elements. Songs like "Rough Gem" to him were clearly dumbed-down pop songs, and his disdain for them likely came about due to their success. The new record appears to eliminate all of the simplicity while retaining the grandiose, unconventionally structured extended pieces. There were seemingly two 10-minute epics, including opener "The Arm" (which may have been combined with an earlier, instrumental intro).

The new songs are huge in scope. The fiddling Chows (who are unrelated) have a much greater role in the overall sound, and the occasional classical, traditional rock (in an Electric Light Orchestra-vein) and Maritime fiddle flourishes truly shape the new direction of Islands. The new material contains complicated instrumental sections, and the current lineup is very well-equipped to handle it. On the violin-led "Pieces Of You" and the slow-rising and ultimately beautiful "I Feel Evil Creeping In," Thorburn can't escape the fact that he can write a beautiful, catchy hook in his sleep. Oddly enough, Islands' song structure — which can best be described as long pieces cut up into movements — isn't all that different from the spastic Unicorns days, except Thorburn has more tools at his disposal now. It has allowed him to experiment with traditional southern American music, including a pristine zydeco breakdown during the set. Another new song, "Creeper," is straight rock. Drummer Aaron Harris' playing is unlike any other in modern pop music, resembling more of a Dixie/ragtime style than traditional timekeeping. As when dealing with music without verses and refrains, the crowd shifted from occasional confusion to euphoric dance-shaking when the crescendos and backing vocals hit.

With Arm's Way, Islands are going to prove that it's possible to eschew common pop song structure yet sound more refreshed and focused. As the crowd in Montreal discovered, Thorburn's precocious side will remain as hidden as his face under a layer of white makeup, and the cuter portions of Return To The Sea no longer fit the new Islands. In between the opening act — the Chows playing the first, second and fourth movements of Prokofiev's Violin Sonata — and the headliner, Tom Russell's Hotwalker played over the p.a. system. To the uninitiated, Hotwalker is Russell's largely spoken word tribute to Charles Bukowski, carnival folk and the heroes of old America. It was a fitting selection because Islands give the impression of being a traveling storybook, visiting small towns and telling the uninformed public of what life is like from the view of outsiders. It's this sentiment of instability the Islands would surely love to capture. The wistfulness that permeated throughout Return To The Sea wasn't about wanting a tropical vacation as so many incorrectly believed. It was about artisans, troubadours, traveling minstrels and music of the past that was slowly dying away.

Based on this warm-up show for an upcoming U.K. tour, it's hard to say if fans will relate to Arm's Way. Still, Islands have successfully done what they've always done: find an unconventional way to create something familiar.