ORIGINAL RELEASE DATE: OCTOBER 25TH 2010


The Fool was easily one of the most memorable records released in 2010. LA-based art rockers Warpaint supposedly spent six years working on this, their first proper full-length debut and the results possess a slow-burning, trascendental quality that feels so intimate as though it were written on the skin. Ever since, the burgeoning rise of Warpaint can be accredited to an established home-grown audience and the links they made around the release of EP Exquisite Corpse, but in truth, it’s mostly due to how damn fine an album they crafted straight off the bat. The buzz surrounding its release wasn’t exactly seismic but generated a substantial hum to warrant considerable attention was rightly directed at the all-female quartet as a result of their signing to Rough Trade. The BBC, ever a little late to jump on the bandwagon, named Warpaint one of the frontrunners for their Sound Of 2011. Perhaps it’s a little too early to consider how well The Fool holds up as a singular piece and a more accurate analysis will come with the impending release of their sophomore effort, but it’s apparent even this early on that it belongs to a select set of debut releases, that all too rare collection of songs which manages to exist so disparately from any of its all too obvious influences.


If The Fool successfully traverses this dichotomy of sounding like everyone and no one at the same time, it’s telling that their sound has become refined as a result of years on the live circuit, allowing time to not only establish their sound but build on it thematically. The instrumentation on The Fool shares more in common with the warm, proggy-fuzz of The Jesus And Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine, or the post-punk of The Slits than the more immediate bombast of newer LA scenesters such as No Age or Wavves. Lead vocals from Emily Kokal throughout the record provide a wonderful distinction between the dispondence of the guitars and the meandering bass lines. Undertow feels at once threatening and caressing, flowing forth generously with percussion that builds on the repetition of the line “Why you wanna blame me for your troubles?” There’s a tight work ethic going on in tracks such as Undertow and with the rumbling bass of Bees, but these spectacles are only revealed after repeated listens. By contrast, opener Set Your Arms Down feels like it snakes in as an improvisation with the odd vocal flourish that serves as a pointer for things to come. These songs are given time to gestate, and given that the sound can be many things - from sexy and rhythmic to eerie and spectral - it never feels like a chore to navigate. It’s relatively easy when the band’s lead vocalist possesses the ability to be as alluring as Chan Marshall and as stentorian as Polly Harvey, with all the vulnerability of the former and the rolling thunder of the latter somehow merging and giving distinction to these often difficult song structures.


Most of The Fool feels like a dream and there’s little to deviate from this path of 4am bluesy wallowing, but occasionally things are stirred back and forth, such as the mood swings of Composure or the solitude of a song like Shadows, with its stammering guitar line and vocals that builds from cradled beginnings to nightmarish exclamations that underline the dark side to life in LA. What goes on behind closed doors or down alleyways in the dead of night? It’s not really something to ponder over and it’s here more to supplant an idea that perpetuates the record’s sombre musings. It’s the former that really feels like a curveball, though, with its rhythmic oscillations and playground caterwauling that doubles as the evil twin sister to PJ Harvey’s Dress.


Composure is, indeed, an important aspect to this record. The Fool is a very well-structured collection of songs, with music that flows to a certain locale as and when it’s required. There’s no room for irregularity, it’s true, but it can also feel slippery, as though a certain vocal line could throw you for a loop or end abruptly. Take Warpaint itself, the second track on the record and the band’s namesake, which begins from looped static and continues with a guitar line that falls continually out of nothing. If it feels devoid of structure then that’s intentional. After a year, it’s Undertow which takes the gold as the most popular song in Warpaint’s as yet humble oeuvre, but there’s something telling about a song that’s named after the band itself which may come to fruition much later in their career. The Fool works because it supplants an idea of what could be. Whether it fulfills that idea is down to the listener as an individual, but for all of its forty seven minutes, The Fool keeps you guessing. It’s sexy and smart, it holds your attention at arm’s length and, like on the subdued Baby with its wide-eyed gazing, it’s restraint feels like it could explode at any moment. It never does.