Even Worse Than the Real Thing?

What is the difference between influence and imitation?  The question seems essential to both artists in this installment of the Deathmatch.  On one hand, Wolf Parade, a band that sounds almost identical to its fellow indie band Arcade Fire.  On the other, Moby, whose work after the groundbreaking 1999 Play never quite got away from its wildly successful formula.

Both Wolf Parade and Arcade Fire are from Quebec, and from what I can gather, they cross-pollinated there in the early 2000s, sharing clubs and even swapping band members on occasion.  The similarities do not end there: they are both fronted, primarily, by voice-cracking singers who part whine, part sing, a la Robert Smith and David Byrne.  Arcade Fire has a bigger lineup, but both bands have full, ambitious sounds, with lots of ragged guitar riffs and falsetto choruses. Arcade Fire has a greater dynamic range; Wolf Parade is less sophisticated and a little rougher around the edges.  But if I weren't a huge fan of Arcade Fire, I would have a hard time telling them apart.  Here is one of my favorite tracks from Apologies to the Queen Mary, a track called "Modern World."

And here, for the sake of comparison, is "Modern Man," a song from Arcade Fire's The Suburbs, which post-dates Queen Mary, but you'll get my point.

It's not just the musical similarities: it's the lyrical sensibility, too.  Nostalgia, disquiet, and perhaps above all, a feeling of displacement permeate the songs of both bands.  I'm not exactly sure what's wrong with Quebec, but both Wolf Parade's Spencer Krug and Arcade Fire's Wim Butler ain't too happy there.  Here's the refrain of "Modern World": 

I'm not in love with the modern world 

I'm not in love with the modern world

It was a torch driving the savages back to the trees 

Modern world has more ways 

And I don't mention it since it's changed 

Butler's "Modern Man" is more wistful and more ironic, but essentially, it's the same gripe.  Something just don't feel right about modern existence:

  
So I wait in line, I'm a modern man
And the people behind me, they can't understand
Makes me feel like
Something don't feel right

Like a record that's skipping
I'm a modern man
And the clock keeps ticking
I'm a modern man
Makes me feel like
Makes me feel like

For Arcade Fire, the suburbs of the 1970s seem to represent the alienation of modern life; for Wolf Parade, the dominant metaphor is ghosts--ghosts of ex-spouses and children haunt the album and give it a kind of unity.  

Of course, there are far worse things than being an Arcade Fire sound-alike. In fact, Queen Mary is a very good album. The songs are memorable, the melodies stick, and, there is an emotional intensity to many of the tracks,  especially the raw ""This Heart's On Fire."  Krug shares lead vocals with Dan Boekner, whose voice is rougher and more muscular, providing a welcome change on several tracks.  All told, I liked this album very much, if not for its originality, than at least for its similarity to Arcade Fire.

When I first heard Moby's Play in 1999, it struck me as completely original, despite Moby's heavy use of samples. In fact, after nearly wearing out the disk, I searched around in vain for another artist who sounded like Moby--not Fatboy Slim, not the Chemical Brothers, and not earlier electronica such as Kraftwerk.  There was something so refreshing and cool about the arrangements: a spare drum machine loop, a blues vocal, cut from Moby's extensive archive and tightly sampled, and a lush chord sequence to flesh out the sound--these were the Moby trademarks, perfected on Play. 




Moby found a huge audience for this formula--I remember my 60ish aunt saying she loved the album.  And I'd be hard-pressed to find a better album for driving.  So it's not surprise that Moby returned to this same formula for his follow-up albums, 18 and Hotel.  The problem, according to many critics, is that Moby didn't just revisit the formula--he cut and pasted it.  18 sounds like a weaker, more sanitized version of Play, and it made all  his earlier innovations seem stale.  Today, Moby has kind of fallen off the radar screen: his veganism and his politics get more play than his music.

What it comes down to is an absolutely original, brilliant album (Play) against a very good but less-than-innovative one (Queen Mary).  I'll vote for the sui generis work every time.

Decision: Moby, Play.