Sylvie, Trees And Shade Are Our Only Fences

For the past few years, Canada’s indie-rock scene has been dominated by one label that encompasses one genre and even one city. It’s the kind of warm and calm folk-infused indie-rock that’s completely unobjectionable and well-received by all, like maple syrup or the concept of universal health care. Our neighbors to the north are far more complicated, however. From their kind and friendly hearts spewed forth a sport that combines the grace of figure skating and the brutality of a drunken street fight. It’s a country that brought us the best band with the worst vocals in Rush and the worst music with the best vocals in Celine Dion. It’s a land of contradictions, and Saskatchewan’s Sylvie embraces their country’s identity crisis with their third album, Trees and Shade Are Our Only Fences.

Trees and Shade Are Our Only Fences hits the ground punching with “Please Make it Home,” a song that starts so abruptly that you’ll wonder if you’ve missed the first 15 seconds of the track. Sylvie’s setup is familiar: a mild tenor male lead singer, followed by feathery female background vocals. You’d be forgiven if you think I’m describing Stars. Driving drums and sweeping instrumental parts, however, deliver a sense of urgency not heard from those Toronto favorites. It clearly shows Sylvie’s intentions; Tree and Shade Are Our Only Fences is more punk-rock than baroque-rock, more chaos than calm, and more aggression than compromise.

The everyman vocals of lead singer Joel Passmore feels so much like DC icon Travis Morrison I almost expected him to burst into a spoken-word chorus. The chaotic, noisy guitars of “Instruments of War” and “Listen Up” are even more reminiscent of The Dismemberment Plan. If Toronto is Canada’s NYC, then perhaps Regina is Canada’s DC. The DC/Regina comparison is clearest during “Mallets,” a deceptively simple song that cleverly centers on Jeff Romanyk’s polyrythmic drumming. That’s not to say that Trees and Shade Are Our Only Fences is without faults.

There are some vocal miscues, specifically “Dark Ages” and “When We Were Young.” In bands with female and male lead vocals, the female vocals are actually stronger than the male vocals, but here, they’re just not up to par. They fall flat and really seem better suited for singing harmony or background. These are minor complaints at worst and fail to detract from a very good album, which is one of more enthusiastic and refreshing albums I’ve heard all year.