Review Summary: Like taking a walk and rain starts to pour.
The two albums Wang Wen closed the last decade with were perhaps the tightest overall in their discography. Both
Sweet Home, Go! and
Invisible City felt like soundtracks to uneasy East Asian drama/thriller movies. Whenever I listen to them, I hear a certain tension bubbling underneath the melancholy or a faint calmness that never manages to settle in. There’s rarely a release, so the tunes usually drift into a hazy, compelling sorrow. 2020’s
100,000 Whys took things into a somewhat shinier direction, since there were enough events to bring you down during the respective year. Now, at a first glance, the Chinese post rock act’s latest effort,
Painful Clown and Ninja Tiger seems to further move down that path. It begins light, the songs are quite breezy, usually relying on one instrument to take the lead instead of creating a wall of noise. Opener “Light behind a Wall” starts the journey with a downtempo beat, complete with soft horn and smooth bass lines. After setting the mood, it gently transitions to a nice groove, while maintaining the same sonic configuration and ultimately, a harder, more urgent coda finishes the epic. Also, “Black Pill & White Pill” takes a Mogwai-esque rhythm, adds lounge type horn touches and occasional synths to embark on a swaying odyssey. The result is a lazy Sunday vibe to slowly sink in until the final minute when sharper guitars kick in with a round of punchier riffs.
Although it appeared to be a sunny ride, the record takes a gradual dive into bleaker territory, kind of like taking a walk and rain begins to pour. For the first time, Wang Wen decided to include vocals, used mostly on the slower, more introspective tunes. “Gone Library” takes a bittersweet yet still dreamy route, whereas “Painful Clown” builds on an Americana lick and stomping drums. The lower pitch voice blends nicely with the instrumental, offering a more emotional layer to the compositions. However, it works best on the mournful “Ninja Tiger” and album closing, late night lullaby “Wild Fire”. These two cuts are also highlights on their own, portraying the moodier and arguably the most compelling side so far of the band. Nevertheless, these contrasts make
Painful Clown and Ninja Tiger quite an interesting chapter in their catalog. They have a certain style that becomes familiar as soon as you become accustomed to the sextet’s music. This is a lovely LP with a nice spin on the played to death formulas of post rock.
