New Tegan and Sara album streaming on their Myspace page


You know how everyone keeps talking about the "new model" of the record industry? About how the former mastodons of the music world will continue to profit off of artists in the age of piracy and free distribution? Yeah. We're still waiting on that, too. So far, the "new model" seems to simply mean "giving shit away."

But while we're waiting, we're listening to Tegan and Sara's new forthcoming disc Sainthood, which, today, was made available for listening on their Myspace page. Head below the jump for our snap judgments on it.

Well, it's Tegan and Sara. Anyone who's heard one of their songs should know exactly what that means.

The hooks are catchy and repeat themselves well, the vocals are that kind of cutesy snarl that seems so pervasive in the pantheon of indie danceables, and the lyrics are witty and, occasionally emotive. In the song "Alligator," Tegan and Sara seem to be at the height of their powers--mining a repeated hook for every ounce of its ore, and infusing the whole solution with some genuinely adroit lyrics.

But where's the growth? After forming into an impeccably tight pop band with a little intellectual gristle, Tegan and Sara have been on auto-fire, firing single after single like pouring through a box of blank ammo, each one as sonically appealing and viscerally impotent as a Flock of Seagulls song.

We're not knocking it (or Flock of Seagulls) as hard as it might seem--it's intensely listenable. But there was a time when Tegan and Sara seemed to have something important to say, and that time feels now woefully far away. Tegan and Sara are a good band. We'd just like to see them stop running in place.

It's a phenomenon we like to call "the Spoon syndrome." Remember Telefono? The snarling, untamed debut by Brit Daniels et al? And remember Series of Sneaks? The forgivably toned down major label follow up? And remember the stream of critically acclaimed, utterly homogeneous releases that oozed out afterward?

Yeah. That's exactly what Sainthood smells like.