âTHE DOUBLE ALBUMââconsidered by many to be a vestige of rockâs masturbatory pastâis an affront to the modern music fanâs stroboscopic attention span. But the medium is experiencing something of a comeback in indie rock circles, from Titus Andronicusâ The Most Lamentable Tragedy and Tenementâs Predatory Headlights to Portland band Strange Rangerâs debut, Rot Foreverâjust three recent examples of critically acclaimed, punk-flecked rock albums that contain well over an hourâs worth of music.
The formatâs staunchest detractors argue that virtually every double album could be whittled down to a superior, single LP, but these listeners miss the point. The most effective double albumsâHĂźsker DĂźâs Zen Arcade, Bruce Springsteenâs The River, the goddamned White Albumâsucceed precisely due to their intractable disregard for stylistic consistency. At worst, double albums are self-indulgent and onerously conceptual, but at best, they let an artist flex their creative musculature in ways that wouldnât make sense in the context of a single LP.
Point Juncture, WAâs latest record, Me or the Party, isnât just one of the best double LPs released in recent memoryâitâs probably the best double album ever released by a Portland artist. Party is the first album from the hallowed indie band in half a decade, and itâs become something of our cityâs Chinese Democracy, spoken about in low tones for the past two years by critics and members of the scene glitterati lucky enough to have heard rough cuts.
The groupâs previous releases, 2008âs Heart to Elk and 2011âs Handsome Orders, were fairly straightforward guitar rock albums that evoked comparisons to Rilo Kiley and the more pop-minded outings from local peers the Thermals. Party sees the group expand its sonic palette considerably. Anthemic opener âTuring Shulganâ is an overview of the recordâs textural expanse; it begins modestly, with drums, a droning organ, and an assemblage of auxiliary percussion, before blowing wide open into a cascade of dreamy vocals and interlacing guitars. Itâs Spectorian in its amplitude, and irreducible by the sum of its elements.
Thereâs an unspoken finality at the heart of Me or the Party. Point Juncture, WAâlike many Portland bands of their eraâhave a dilettantish appeal. They balked at being Portlandâs ânext big thing,â but those in the know have long considered them one of the cityâs finest exports. Their defiant DIY fealty is reflected in Partyâs cover art: 13 crudely illustrated portraits that bring to mind George Bushâs dog paintings. Itâs an amusing contrast to the inherent bombast of a double album. Runtime aside, this is intimate art made in a time and place where the concept of âintimate artâ is becoming increasingly rarefied. Me or the Party is a long, cathartic exhalation from a group that likely senses its hometown is losing touch with aspects of its cultureâand it was well worth the wait.