of Montreal
Prepare to get provoked
Provocation always implies that you’re looking for a certain reaction. For instance, if you go into the Air Canada Centre and start screaming “Go Habs, Go!” at the top of your lungs, there’s a certain acceptance on your part of what’s going to happen next. Just like if you smear Nutella across your girlfriend’s face while she’s sleeping, expect a certain rude awakening tomorrow morning. And if you start a blog in which you give your opinion about music, be prepared to deal with the oodles of money and recognition which come along with it (HA!).
See, provocation implies a both a conscious act to consciously ensure a certain reaction. And I’ll be damned if anyone tries to convince me that of of Montreal’s Id Engager is specifically designed to get people of all shapes, sizes, sexes, and financial brackets on a dance floor.
I’m telling you, Kevin Barnes and company are purposefully looking to get sweaty, nubile bodies undulating expectantly against each other under their watchful, manipulating, eyeshadow-heavy stares. Honestly, listen to how this song kicks off, with this unsuppressed funk piquancy, served up with just enough sly guitar verve to set the tone, with Barnes exploding with his best Prince-like howl to instigate the festivities. It then slides into familiar bass-and-vocals territory, supported by some sexy guitar licks and on-the-verge synth grumblings. We’re treated to the band’s trademark richly arranged voicework from start to finish, assisting Barnes in declaiming a fittingly popping and flippant chorus, which chants “Can’t help it if its true/Don’t wanna be your man/Just wanna play with you,” amidst the recurring lyrical theme of sexual discomfiture. Which doesn’t mean there isn’t room for some of that typical of Montreal eccentricity. The last third of the song has an amalgam of deconstructive swerves and rhythm breaks, and then there’s something about aphid empires and ninjas; it provides enough colouration to keep it from being a straight-up dance song, and arrives at a moment where you’re much too involved to jump out.













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