Pride goes before the stylish, well-sculpted fall of Jupe Jupe’s King of Sorrows, the Seattle foursome’s latest post-punk discotheque of dramatic darkwave ebbs and flows. Nailed to its doors are theses on vanity and arrogance, old love affairs, aging and isolation, etched in deep, charismatic vocals and shapely sonic calligraphy, a lost art indeed.
Against the tight, shifting rhythms and zig-zagging synths of a catchy and danceable “Kill Your Darlings,” which marches to the frenzied, yet controlled, beat of Franz Ferdinand, My Young wails, “We’re all just playing God/Destroying something flawed.” Surgical removal of some imperfection – however slight – may or may not be called for, but humans usually aren’t all that discerning. They just want it gone, preferably completely eradicated, no matter the collateral damage. With loads of kinetic energy and sleek, intoxicating melodies, Jupe Jupe, on the other hand, is likely to stick around.
Now eight albums in, still trying to live in both the ‘80s and the present, Jupe Jupe is more adept than ever at seamlessly integrating a retro array of samplers, mellotrons and synthesizers with a swirling vortex of bass, guitars and drums. Sounding classic and modern, Young’s languid, curving croon and occasional wheezes and oozes of saxophone add to the vintage appeal, as “A Game of Wait and See” slides into a dizzying, futuristic carnival of racing euphoria and visceral thrills and bouncy opener “Haunting” somehow manages to trip the light fantastic with both the raucous new wave propulsion of Romeo Void and the graceful manners of Bryan Ferry. All briskly paced and gripping, the quick and infectiously choppy “Alive Inside of You,” a soaring “Cane” and the expansive, sweeping “Casualty of Love” speak to Jupe Jupe’s immersive, grooving chemistry and cohesion, holistically enveloped in atmospherics that are inky or airy.
Effortlessly cool, merging the theatrical electro-pop sensibilities of Duran Duran and Depeche Mode, while robotically enlisting in Gary Numan’s Tubeway Army, Jupe Jupe never gets stuck in a perpetual loop. Bathing the ominous and cinematic “Down with the Setting Sun” in lush noir and elegance, Young and company also slow down for the liquid “Nothing Left to Come,” raining blips and swaying melancholy. Mostly, though, King of Sorrows thinks big, opting for clean textures, elasticity and grand gestures. Maybe the head that wears the crown isn’t so heavy after all.
