Wolf Parade
Fair-skinned Canadians, Wolf Parade looked somewhat discombobulated as they walked onstage. Though light a member – guitarist Dante DeCaro apparently had a touch of the E. coli – the first few songs sounded relatively full. Guitarist Dan Boeckner and keyboardist Spencer Krug looked like a comedy duo, the former in a muscle tee, sporting tattoos and a long mop of hair, the latter with a white tee and neatly trimmed moustache. They alternated vocals, as on Apologies to the Queen Mary, Krug jumping up and down and banging away furiously on his set-up while Boeckner executed Springsteen-like struts. They ran through “Modern World” and “I’ll Believe in Anything” as well as the ethereal “You Are a Runner and I Am My Father’s Son.” Yet Wolf Parade shouldn’t play festivals. Their sound – crisp, odd, and anguished on album – sounded muddled and soulless here. Wolf Parade is fueled by beer and thrives in dark clubs, where fans are willing to make eye contact and throw back every heartbreaking word. Even the frantic “This Heart’s on Fire” and elegiac closer “Dinner Bells” couldn’t rise above the deadly trinity of bad pot, sunburned backs, and dudes hackysacking.
This article appears in September 22 • 2006.