International Karate More of What We've Heard Before Than We've Ever Heard Before by: Al Cottrill Tue:20-Mar-07 Label: Sensory Projects Year: 2007 WB rating 60 out of 100

Could there be a more irritating and inadequate systems of classification than genre taxonomy?  Linnaeus’ wonderful binomial system of classification – based upon the salient characteristics of a particular species – has been thrown out the window, in favour of a first-come-first-served, subjective lucky dip.  I know I cringe at the thought of trying to draw lines between ‘rock’, ‘indie’, ‘alternative’ and ‘pop’.  And your head may hurt as I regularly delineate between ‘post-rock’, ‘kraut-rock’ and ‘indie-rock’ as though they all existed discretely, obviously and easily identifiably.  But it has to be done, for somewhere within this unwieldy trinity is where International Karate reside, and their three-genre permutations are playing havoc with their sound.

Through previous albums Monster in Sound and Weapons of Mass Protection, International Karate’s music could best be described with one of music’s most inadequate epithets: ‘Post-Rock’, a category designed to cover everyone from Mogwai to the Dirty Three; Miaou to Pelican. Generally free of vocals, and containing complex instrumentals, the genre does not necessarily lend itself to analysis (or commercial success).  But in the quest for future growth, International Karate has cast off the weighty shackles of this misnomer.  They have evolved their sound into a new beast, equipped with lyrics, synthesisers and new-found urgency, adding to the strong post-rock base they have built.  Despite this, I can’t help but feel a pang in my heart, and wonder why one of Australia’s most promising post-rock bands have compromised themselves.

This is not to say the album lacks highlights; ‘Old Sounds/New Haircuts’ shakes and struts like an opening track should. It’s true post-rock; gradually appearing out of the mist – building, pulsating, pounding and wiping your mind clean of other thoughts.  At the same time there is more to it, it is a statement of purpose, clean-cut, up-tempo and attention seeking. As a point of difference it makes for interesting listening, and certainly helps International Karate stand out against the accepted ‘post-rock’ sound. Not only is it a muscly opener, it is a perfectly executed (and deliberate) summary of the band’s new intentions, and their shift away from the more down-tempo rock roots.

The strength of the opener is at first betrayed by the lightness of the second. ‘Falling Water’ sits somewhere between Mazzy Star and Beach House, the tune itself a graceful piano lilt over restrained bass and guitar – a perfect evocation of its title. The question needs to be asked for a song so out of place: why is it here? For a band known previously for their stirring post-rock, why should their first true vocal track be such a delicate affair?  This is made more questionable when its successor, ‘Night Without Sleep’ flips back to the post-rock foundations.  With local singer Laura Jean guesting on vocals, ‘Falling Water’ is certainly a pretty song, but if it belongs on the album, it is only in the latter stages, when International Karate’s sound has mellowed and the listener is receptive.  The current placing does not soothe as this gentle song should, but jars like my virgin clutch(less) gear shift.

After jolting through the opening tracks, the songs that make up the middle order of More of What We’ve Heard are more coherent, escalating the tempo and delving back into the ‘80’s with remarkable proficiency.  This essence, created by the golden synths and electro that run throughout, render a sound immediately identifiable.  Tracks such as ‘Only Good Will Come of This’ and ‘The Future’s Not What It Used To Be’ are album highlights – which is auspicious given their vocal prevalence.  Unfortunately, the aspirations of ‘Only Good Will Come Of This’ are dented by the undeveloped choral track, with the singer Andrew Polydorou seeming unsure of the power of his own voice.  As such, it is held back on the equaliser, and dominated by the powerful ‘80’s landscape it resides on, the instruments whisking the vocals along, buffeting them above its underlying rhythm; the song stands easily despite them.

International Karate’s battle with its transition is cryptically described within ‘The Future’s Not What It Used To Be’, with another reference (‘Old Sounds/New Haircuts’) to their new sound and previous works: “They have to compromise/To get us through the door/Sick of my life as another fake/Tired of the days and the noises I make/….Though I feel a Monster in Soul”.  It has interesting implications for the decision process involved in this new direction, and you have to wonder if it was entirely smooth sailing.

Strangely enough, it is the instrumental tracks that let the album down, lacking both the power and intensity of previous releases and the tempo and clean guitars of new models.  When held against the fully-realised sound of ‘Movement’ and ‘Geography’,   ‘Perfect Skin’ and ‘It’s Alright To Show You Care’ are pointless dirges and ‘Night Without Sleep’ is simplistic and repetitive.  It is as though they have had the passion and intensity shaken from them, leaving dull skeletons of their potential worth; meandering, uninspired pieces of instrumental tedium. 

While many of the songs stand strong on their own; discrete, self-contained blocks of music that would be worthy additions to many albums, as a whole the effect is of a compilation: every song that arouses interest is opposed by one that lulls the album back to slumber. It is unfortunate, for International Karate make stunning music, and had their aim been more focused, this album’s rating would reach far warmer climes.

The solution? International Karate may have been better shifting their entire sound, jumping over that rickety fence, rather than remaining seated on its well-worn palings, one foot in their post-rock past, and one in the indie-rock future.  Had they done so, they may have approached the heights set recently by This Will Destroy You, Explosions in the Sky and The Samuel Jackson Five.  But for now we really do have More of What We’ve Heard Than We’ve Ever Heard Before, its glittering rock moments somewhat mellowed by its transitory genre-skipping.