Album Details

• Artist: Mother Mother
• Album: Oh My Heart
• Label: Last Gang
• Year of Release: 2008
• ME Rating:
• Reviewed by: trismus on 2008-11-09

When I met Jamie she was wearing a Mother Mother t-shirt, plaid skirt, sandals and fresh scrapes on her knees.  She was shaking uncontrollably in the brisk November wind but still sported a merry smile, the kind of smile that advertised genuine joy and playfulness.  It took until I was almost to the filter of my American Spirit cigarette before I mustered up the nerve to ask her, "Why on Earth are you dressed like that?  It's freezing!"

She smelled like patchouli but not quite, more like she had spent the afternoon lighting her troubles ablaze in a burning pile.  She answered with a question of her own, "Wanna play?"

Such a childish question, offered in response to a question that warranted an explanation of foolish execution, not an invitation to engage in more.  But looking at her impish features, the exploding eyes, sharp nose and high cheekbones, I couldn't resist the invitation.  I felt compelled to discover what kind of madness led to such mirth. 

She grabbed my hand and darted off down the dirty city sidewalk.  She bounded like a deer, dragging me along through the grimy grey toward her fantasy land.  We ran until we reached the busy intersection of Fleet and 53^rd.  There, I took the opportunity to catch my breath.  Jamie, ever smiling, searched for something exciting to fill this pause in progress.  Finding nothing external, she looked to herself for entertainment and raised her skirt to the passing traffic. 

The light turned green and we were off once again.  I inquired as to our destination through wheezing clouds of warm breath.  We seemed to be going somewhere with such expedience that I began to wonder if we were late for some critical event.  Jamie answered with a shoulder cresting smile followed by continued running.  I finally had enough of the aimless sprinting and slowed to a gallop before stopping completely and bracing myself against my knees.

"Hold on..just hold on."

Jamie stopped and looked to me for the first time without a smile.  She looked worried, her big green eyes rounded and polished with motherly concern. 

"Where..(pant)..where are we going?"

Her tiny, soft hands cradled my chin and lifted my head upwards.  Jamie stared at me for years, decades, centuries, searching my soul through the two portholes on my face.

"What?"

She found what she searched for; acknowledging its presence with widened eyes that quickly shrank to an accepted understanding.  I don't know if it's pity that shaped her face then or forgiveness but she punctuated this new acceptance with a kiss, the softest, wettest kiss that's ever crossed my lips.  She then smiled, ran her hand down the side of my face, and started running.

User Reviews and Comments

Review:

on 2010-06-17 dadair Said:

Naturally, it is always difficult to review a foraging and sun-kissed indie album from a Canadian act, without considering Arcade Fire. Mother Mother, in the title track, do have a lush and uplifting touch akin to Winn Butler and co, at times, but theres also a splattering of Hal and The Delgados, as well as some yearning interludes and a touch of desperation is also chucked in for good measure. This second album soon shapes up into a ranging release, toying with emotions whilst retaining some playfulness.

In Body, a slight falsetto hold grips onto the vocals of Ryan Guldemond that is stretched out when his sister Molly joins in the act. Creating a beleaguered, yet strangely comforting pop epic that builds from an almost eerie, grinding bass led intro. This is also returned to for a bluesy outro, sandwiching the reflection and heart with grit and grime. Its juxtaposed by a tender and slow yearning ballad, Try To Change. That sees the two vocalists digging deep for some heart-wrenching, covering a thorny topic that is the futility of trying to change. Mollys vocal versatility is laid out to bare, when she provides for a mild soul infusion towards the end of this engaging snippet.

Through Ghosting, Mother Mother instils some spindling folk to slow things down, providing for some meditation and respite, as Ryans vocals unveil a positive and warm streak. It is another track demonstrating that backing vocals can add potency and pull to a song. This element is certainly no mere afterthought to this Vancouver quintet. The racing Placebo veined instrumental build up in Hay Loft, initially bolsters a track that soon morphs into a snazzy NU rave and New Wave conjoining razzle-dazzle. A forage through history shows that the true genius of pop is in the ability to deliver simple melancholy with melodious catchiness and sincerity. This is easily achieved through Arms Tonite, whereby Mollys stern, but comforting vocal touch starts to take over. She indulges in a warming, yet darkly blurred exchange with Ryan. Easily giving The Magic Numbers a run for their money and somebody-elses too!

Mother Mother have produced one of the freshest pop/indie conjoining albums of the decade so far and, it will take something special from the earlier mentioned fellow Canadian, euphoric pop darlings to top this.
Rating: 9/10