From album to album, Mice Parade's approach -- an adventurous mix of global, electronic, and indie sounds -- remains largely the same, but the results are never identical. The project's adventures continue on Lapap?, a record that proves the nine years between it and the band's previous effort, Candela, weren't because Adam Pierce and company were lacking ideas or passion. Bristling with koto and distorted drums, "Eisa Dancers" is one of many moments that are too dynamic to be merely pretty. Another is "Crystalline," which ...
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From album to album, Mice Parade's approach -- an adventurous mix of global, electronic, and indie sounds -- remains largely the same, but the results are never identical. The project's adventures continue on Lapap?, a record that proves the nine years between it and the band's previous effort, Candela, weren't because Adam Pierce and company were lacking ideas or passion. Bristling with koto and distorted drums, "Eisa Dancers" is one of many moments that are too dynamic to be merely pretty. Another is "Crystalline," which bounds from delicate folk to lilting highlife and an emo-like churn so impatiently that it belies the fact that the collective spent seven years piecing the album together. Named after a Yoruba word that roughly translates to "totally" in English, Lapap? features several fine examples of what could be called quintessential Mice Parade: "Good Morning" welcomes listeners with rippling marimba, dual drums, and guitars of the distorted shoegaze and nimble Afro-pop varieties; the percussion workout "Kanabe Dance" approximates acoustic techno; and "Finding Faces" combines brittle flamenco guitar, jazz-tinged rhythms, and Angel Deradoorian's fiery, melismatic vocals into a fever dream of loss. The album also lives up to its name with its relatively uncharted territory. Time passing and growing distances are two of the major themes of Pierce's songwriting, and his lead vocals on many of Lapap?'s songs add to its emotional heft. On the bitter standout "Could This Be Anywhere," he sings of "a city that's got nothing for me now" over propulsive strumming that feels deserted compared to the rest of the album's vibrant hybrids, and while he's joined by Arone Dyer on the similarly taut "Bushwick & Knoll," it feels more like a duel than a duet as they both sing about going it alone. Pierce bids a final farewell to an old flame on "Good Night," which closes the album with a wave of shoegaze bliss that sounds like it's been reverberating since 1991. Even for a Mice Parade album, Lapap? covers a lot of ground. They were globally inclusive before it was cool -- and they still are -- but it's Pierce's unguarded confessions that make Lapap? so arresting. ~ Heather Phares, Rovi
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