Hailing from the Great White North, the self-titled full-length from these noise-pop virtuosos is a refreshing lo-fi outing that bristles with the same kind of claustrophobic tension that made the Swell Maps and early Guided by Voices so exciting at first listen.

I realize there's hardly a shortage of lo-fi indie bands at the moment, it being the Brooklyn sound de rigeur, but trust me when I tell you that Women are something different entirely. Sure they might have a name which screams "try Googling us asshole," but their obstinate twos up carries perfectly into the music itself and the resulting hiccup of an album is one of the most satisfying indie rock experiences of '08 thus far. Recorded in their Canadian basement apparently to busted boomboxes over a period of four months, it does sound like a labor of love. There's a huge difference between lo-fi and merely sloppy, and so often the two get confused giving rise to some pathetic excuses for music, but thankfully Women are anything but unfocused. This is an ineffably smart record, at times broaching the defiantly untrendy world of math rock in the technical riffage of "Lawncare" or "Sag Harbor Bridge" but staying far, far away from the high fidelity obtuse onslaught of genre pioneers Don Caballero. You see, stylistically the band seem just as fond of Royal Trux-lite garage rock, just as enamored by the experimental clatter of the Silver Apples and with a sizeable 60s pop collection (there are more than just a few sly nods to the Beatles/Beach Boys-era of classic songwriting) -- basically they meet the critical expectation of the flood of bands who are regarded as having "eclectic influences." It's funny because just as I was marking myself down as tired of a certain genre, a band pop up who confound all my expectations blending a large handful of my favorite musical styles and ending up chancing upon one of my favorite albums of the year. Proof lies in the Velvets-do-Brian Wilson-on-tape charm of album highlight "Black Rice" -- if you don't find yourself weak at the knees by this little gem then you don't like music. It really is that simple.

-John Twells (October 31, 2008)