Patagonian Rats

Tera Melos

It was only a matter of time before I got around to talking about this one, and seeing how it is the album's 11th anniversary, I figured now was as good a time as any. I remember anticipating this record so much as, for awhile, it seemed like the band were on a bit of a hiatus, searching for a drummer who could fill the rather large shoes their previous drummer, Vince Rogers, left. It was during this period where I got really into Tera Melos' work and was just starting to work through the cognitive dissonance that their discography was putting me through. It was jazzy, dynamic, technically astounding, futuristic in its experimentation with effects; these were things I had no frame of reference for, but it was intriguing and it kept me coming back. The anticipation for new music started to really climb and I remember it feeling like forever between when their music finally clicked and when this record came out. Patagonian Rats was eventually released and it was better than expected. It immediately clicked thanks to the use of repetition and more pop song structures, something the band wasn't really known to do. However, it still held on to everything that made the band so special in the first place: the absolute guitar wizardry from Nick Reinhart in both the technical performance and sound design senses, the hyperactive and creative drumming from John Clardy (who filled those shoes rather nicely by the way), and the unlikely, curious basslines from Nathan Latona.

What makes this record so special is the breadth of different sounds and moods it weaves together; sometimes all in the matter of a four minute song. Take one of the album's singles, The Skin Surf. The song begins with a cutesy, nursery rhyme type guitar riff, periodically shifts into a crashing alt-rock passage, and for the finale, the song is unceremoniously abducted to be subjected to unethical lab tests; at least that's what I envision. Trident Tail is a multi-phased epic that begins like an aquatic expedition with some of the watery guitar textures and sonar type embellishments. This song also makes quite a drastic detour around the half way mark into a pretty perplexing and winding prog-rock passage. It emerges out the other side into this tranquil, yet curious last leg that features one of the most tasteful saxophone solos I've ever heard on any rock record. It is so soulful and the melodic lines dance perfectly around Reinhart's odd chord progression. I could go on and on but in an effort not to inundate you or spoil too much, I will just quickly mention the closing track. It opens with a very aggressive hardcore punk section that has a pretty heavy radio band effect applied to it. It quickly becomes derailed going into this mesmerizing passage that features some two-handed tapping and sliding on the guitar and a very unorthodox drum beat from Clardy. It's the very end, though, that puts the final stamp on this incredibly journey. The guitar melody is divine, the drum groove is perfect and accented beautifully with some bongos. The phrase repeats numerous times allowing you to just get lost in the joyous feeling it elicits.

Patagonian Rats is a musician's record. It is both melodically and rhythmically very complex. It is truly adventurous in its sound design and in the range of influences that pop up all over the place, often unexpectedly. That's not to say that I think this record is overly pretentious though. It can still be quite fun and exciting regardless of whether you understand everything that is going into it. If you'll allow me to get personal again, this record is among a small handful of records that came along during a very important time in my life when I was ready to explore what the world had to offer. This record has been so influential to me in terms of expanding my musical taste. Without Patagonian Rats, I don't think I would've had the capacity to appreciate the works of electronic music pioneers like Aphex Twin or Squarepusher. I would not have had the patience to value the cinematic and tension building elements in post-rock. And I probably would be quick to write off the artistry behind noise and no wave without giving it a second thought. Listening to this record has changed my brain; once looking like the smooth plains of Saskatchewan, but now looking like the Canadian Rockies. That's an absolute (totally non-scientific) fact.