THERE’S a standing joke that it’s impossible to name five famous Belgians, with most of us stumped after naming Hercule Poirot. Canada has a similar celeb identity crisis, which is strange because the country spawned Leonard Cohen, Justin Bieber, Bryan Adams, Rufus Wainwright and Neil Young.
How many of those came as a surprise? The problem is when we look across the pond it’s invariably towards the US, perhaps understandably, and Canada barely gets a mention. As if to prove this anonymity, Montreal’s The High Dials begin this album heavily influenced by (if we’re kind) or copyists of (if we’re not) England’s Joy Division and New Order.
Four songs in, the band suddenly becomes a melange of Ride and The Smiths in an odd kind of shoe gaze without any footwear to stare at Finally a dollop of disco, folk and groove is thrown in for good, if rather confusing, measure. The High Dials have been around for a while and are plainly looking for a new direction. Ploughing so many furrows is not the one to take.
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