Like a pendulum,
Xiu Xiu
achieves balance by swinging between extremes. Even by this band's standards, 2014's
Angel Guts Red Classroom
was so harrowing that it begged for an equal and opposite reaction. They allowed some light in with
Xiu Xiu Plays the Music of Twin Peaks
, and the trend continues -- to a degree -- on
Forget
, which finds them reacquainting themselves with their pop side. While this isn't the band's most accessible album (that would probably be
Dear God, I Hate Myself
), it's still far less terrifying than its predecessor. The album's one truly pop song arrives early: "Wondering" is a reminder of just how good
is at slightly warped synth-pop; though a less restless band could make a good career out of songs like this,
Jamie Stewart
and company put their flair for anthemic choruses in service of finding solidarity among outcasts. Elsewhere,
sound prettier than they have in some time, and the combination of noise and poignant melodies on songs such as "Queen of the Losers" and "At Last, At Last" evokes the band's early-2000s work. The standout "Jenny GoGo" is equally spooky and danceable, with a darkly mischievous vibe that feels like it rubbed off from
. At other points on
, the band puts the pop back in popularizing as they recontextualize underground artists and obscure instruments, whether it's the carillon that graces "Hay Choco Bananas" or the brash vocal stylings of Banjee Ball choreographer
Enyce Smith
that add an extra strength and ferocity to "The Call." Here and on "Get Up," a fine example of the mix of melodrama and honesty that
does so well, there's an emotional directness that may be the most truly pop thing about
. Of course, it wouldn't be a
album without at least one gut-wrenching moment. "Faith, Torn Apart" closes
with performance artist
Vaginal Davis
reading a poem
Stewart
wrote about young girls sold into prostitution; when she reads lines like "my gaze is never going to settle/my smirk is a shadow," the cumulative effect is softly, slowly devastating. Dark and luminous at the same time,
allows
to redefine pop in a way that's true to their volatile -- but always gripping -- nature. ~ Heather Phares