They Shoot Horses Don't They, Pick Up Sticks

reviewed by dave heaton

"This is the last song / it's everything I've dreamed about," the first song proclaims, suggesting the apocalypse is upon us. Or maybe it just feels that way because of the group's manic energy, and the horns, and how they resemble a crazed circus band. It isn't hard to see They Shoot Horses Don't They as street preachers warning of impending doom, but dancing all the while. With 9 members – including two saxophones, a trumpet, a trombone and a tuba – the brass-band sound is dominant, even while their songs resemble pop that has been twisted up. Not unlike Head of Femur if they drew more from HP Lovecraft than the Summer of Love – if, for example, they had Frog Eyes' sense of being possessed. Or like Architecture in Helsinki if all the members were replaced with zombies. Sometimes I imagine them as a street band existing within the world of Tom Waits' Swordfishtrombones, like if the circus freaks on the cover started a band.

"I've got this curiosity / I hope it don't kill me," one lines goes halfway through. Curiosity is a good word, in both of its senses. They're pushing the edges to see what breaks. "The Hallway" has a unique skeletal stomp. "Busted Bell" has a weird shift partway through, like a marching band has come in and starting running through their charts.

And then there's "You Know Me", where the band members join together as a chorus, singing "you showed us the clouds above us / and then you pulled out the rug from under us / all right," before seguing into what sounds like the Spider Man theme song. It's hard to tell if they're outraged or excited – probably both. That's the driving force throughout, a kind of joyous state of distrust.

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