jj: jj n° 2

jj

Label: Sincerely Yours

Is this what we, the critical community, are into now; some mysterious group that may as well be Peter Bjorn and John covering the greatest hits of Peter Gabriel and Enya? Count me out. I know, I know, you’re thinking “this is someone who just does not like white Europeans appropriating the music of third world countries and making millions off of it.” Honestly, that’s not it. Music has always been tied to theft, no matter how you look at it; good luck finding any artist that hasn’t “borrowed” liberally from other sources, consciously or not. I’m not interested in a debate about how ethical it is or isn’t to be utilizing forms that were developed by groups of people who may have a difficult time being heard on a mainstream level. What I’m interested in is how such a bland, uninspired work as jj’s second album has been labeled the Next Big Thing.

This is particularly troubling when the last Next Big Thing, Vampire Weekend, were able to also work with world music structures and tones but in a way that was much more interesting and moving than what jj offers. Tellingly, jj lack a “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” moment, a song that may not be entirely original but nonetheless feels new and invigorating, the type of pop moment that just clicks. Comparing the two groups may seem reductive or irrelevant, but both came to the attention of culture at large because of glowing reviews from Pitchfork, reviews that centered on the concept of these artists as purveyors of a broader definition of pop.

This somewhat lofty declaration binds the two acts together whether for better or worse. Despite the backlash that has hounded Vampire Weekend, its become a truth as more bands rise in their wake hoping to cash in on a formula they admittedly did not create. No one is really arguing that Vampire Weekend were the first to work Afropop into their otherwise unassuming indie rock, but they did so with a flair and comfort that others lacked. Unfortunately, they were also rich kids rooted in Ivy League culture. By contrast, no one knows much about jj, a fact that critics can’t help but wet themselves over, repeating the fact constantly as if it makes up for Vampire Weekend’s origins. Remaining mysterious is the best thing jj could do since it eliminates the question of origin altogether and lets critics feel better about themselves, no longer pushing a Next Big Thing with an incredibly unhip background story.

This is important because jj’s music itself is entirely uninteresting. There is no mystery or curiosity to it. Songs like “From Africa to Malaga” are instantly forgettable, no matter how exotic their inspiration is. Elsewhere, jj attempt to liven up their work by injecting more modern sounds, like the Lil’ Wayne-cribbing “Ecstasy.” Instead of enlivening the proceedings though, the percussion on “Ecstasy” just comes across as painfully obvious and awkward, closer to collaboration between Dido and Enya. The closest the group comes to a moment that works is halfway through the album, on “My Love.” The electronics make more sense here, they’re more understated, less intrusive; synths chirp softly in the background and the female vocals seem suitably haunting. Something about the song recalls Pulp’s “Mile End” and even though there is no reasonable explanation for this (is it the minimalist percussion? the synth holding everything together?) it’s a perfect companion; the vocals here a little dreamier than anything Jarvis Cocker could ever do, but distraught nonetheless.

The last half of the album as a whole fares better than the first, even on the seemingly tossed off “Intermezzo,” which if nothing else sounds like a case for a collaboration between Lykke Li and Hot Chip. Unfortunately, just because the last half is better doesn’t mean that it’s all that good. The sound of jj is ultimately too thin, too uninspired to warrant the attention the group has received, forcing one to wonder if the hype really is just because of the mysteriousness surrounding the ensemble. Where that mysteriousness worked for others, most recently the Knife, it’s important to note that it only works when the music can stand the attention. In the meantime, you may as well just stick to the Ivy League brats in Vampire Weekend; even if they aren’t fashionable, at least they know how to write good pop.

by Morgan Davis