Wolf’s Law picks right up where The Joy Formidable’s groundbreaking 2011 debut, “The Big Roar” left off by continuing the Welsh-trio’s intriguing mix of tight pop hooks with a swelling sonic attack. If there were any complaints to be had on the band’s debut it was that there was a little too much noise and the album became pretty predictable after one listen. The Joy Formidable wore their blatant hero worship of shoegaze icons; My Bloody Valentine and noise pop originators, The Jesus and Mary Chain, on their sleeve. Granted they mixed their influences in an intriguing enough way backed by top-notch musicianship. But as a whole, The Big Roar was aptly named as it was a one note album and that note was loud.
On their sophomore effort, The Joy Formidable start branching out beyond their influence to incorporate new ideas while still keeping their ear for perfect pop melodies. Not that this growth is apparent from the outset. The first few tracks sound like recording sessions from their debut that were left on the cutting room floor. The opener “This Ladder Is Ours” set a poor tone of things to come with its mutated, dull chorus. If anything, its the embodiment of the worst traits of TJF– tired melodies feed through a wall of sonic distortion in an attempt to elevate them.
Thankfully, “Ladder” is the weakest moment of the album and quickly becomes a speed bump once the heavier, rollicking “Cholla” begins, but it’s from track 4 (“Little Blimps”) to the end where Joy Formidable really pulls out all the stops. “How?” You may ask. Let’s put it this way. “Little Blimps” opens with a manic pounding guitar riff that draws more than a few comparisons to “Gangnam Style” before delving into a decidedly more New Wave inspired frenzy unlike anything they’ve done before. Not that you would know it from listening. The band handles the use of blasting club synths with gusto on the song. But the creative tricks the band pulls don’t stop there. Several tracks make great use of a swelling string section and choir that, rather than feeling unnecessarily piped in, actually marry nicely with the bands playful energy. And the sheer number of ways front woman Ritzy Bryan (pulling double duty as lead guitar and vocalist) has for making her guitar talk is astounding. Regardless of the tone or instruments the band incorporates into each song, she has just the right guitar tone for it. Whether its the air-siren wail that dances with a frantic piano intro in “The Leopard And The Lung” or the chippy waterfall of notes on “Maw Maw Treatment”.
If there are any weakness to be found it’s the band’s “big sound over everything else” approach, which doesn’t show any signs of changing and Bryan’s voice, while delightful, is just too breathy at times and gets buried by the all encompassing sound. (With the standout exception on “Silent Treatment” which is a beautiful acoustic piece that showcases her voice nicely). But it’s a minor complaint in an otherwise flawless album
