Timber Timbre's latest album, Sincerely, Future Pollution, is full of garbage. That's not to say that the creeped-out Canadian pop twisters aren't blowing listeners away with their fourth full-length collection – the nine-song set may be their most adventurous and wide-reaching yet, boldly flirting with flavours of folk, funk, rock, and more. It's just that vocalist/guitarist Taylor Kirk spends this latest song cycle steadily oozing out a disillusioned critique on how sludge-stained our society's become, literally and figuratively.
"I kind of became obsessed with this idea of waste," he tells Westender, on the line from his Montreal apartment, "Especially in these big places where these cities are growing taller and wider, and are sort of precariously perched on these sewers. I became fixated on this underbelly, all these things that we don't even consider anymore – the dirt in the world."
By the sounds of it, Timber Timbre – Kirk, guitarist Simon Trottier, keyboardist Mathieu Charbonneau and drummer Mark Wheaton – have seen their fair share of grime around the globe. After all, they just completed a European tour, and will spend the rest of the spring hitting a series of North American clubs.
Additionally, the world-wearySincerely, Future Pollution was tracked overseas at an idyllic chateau called La Frette, just outside of Paris. Kirk penned his dystopian wordscapes in a nearby hotel, where he ruminated on a shared anxiety brought on by terrorist attacks, political absurdity, and over-sharing on social media. His concern is expressed through a calmed but caustic croon; for instance, while describing "desperate elections," "racial vaccination" and the surrealist image of a cathedral floating into a sewer on the desolate bossa nova, "Western Questions".
"It was kind of surprising," he says of the new record's dark and dour, issues-oriented direction. "I'd never been decidedly political; I'd never written things that were politicized or even just critical in that way."
Beyond Kirk's newfound lyrical focus, the Future Pollution sessions also yielded other unexpected results. "Grifting" is a plastic-soul slap Kirk likens to "Fame"-period Bowie, but the songwriter explains that “Grifting” had previously been worked through various unsuccessful incarnations over the years before finding its raunchy groove. When Trottier and Charbonneau first brought instrumental numbers "Skin Tone" and "Bleu Nuit" to the rest of the band, Kirk said the arrangements were quite austere. Now, they're both maximalist terror dirges replete with layers of '80s-era sci-fi score synths, pounding mechano-percussion, and a neon scrap heap of sleaze and unease. "We ended up making them into porn music, some kind of weird fusion exotica," Kirk elaborates. "That was a surprise, especially for them."
Perhaps the wildest part of the album is when the waltzing "Moment" erupts into a dizzying, double-hand tapping guitar solo from Trottier, whose curveball, Guitar Hero performance was augmented with some equally eyebrow-raising sonic manipulations by bandleader Kirk.
"He's playing the guitar and I'm playing his pedals while he's laser shredding," Kirk explains of the tag-team effort, adding that this particular moment was delivered in honour of a fallen master musician. "We had just learned that Prince had passed away, and I was really upset about this. I told Simon,do it for Prince!"
Trottier's six-string freak-out being somewhat modeled on Prince's playing seems appropriate for Sincerely, Future Pollution. Considering Kirk's mire-mottled musings on the state of the modern world, the band could easily have subverted an album title from the Purple One, too: Sign O' the Times.
