The Fire Show

One doctrine states that a meticulous effort should be easy to notice, sticking out and calling attention to itself as if to say, “Heed me, for I am meticulous,” the attention afforded it being a sweet reward. Another school of thought believes that instead, when practiced, meticulousness should sound random and scattershot, planned and plotted to sound as if it were neither planned nor plotted, even though there’s no way it could not have been. The Fire Show subscribes to both these ideologies, the former demonstrated in the carefully played strings, which add majestic tension whenever heard, and the latter in the bursts of ugly static that temporarily cloud the melodies. When that noise fades out, it seems the trek up to one of the song’s many peaks was temporarily obscured, stranding listeners at the top and leaving them to ponder how they got there.

Still, the view from this summit is outstanding. Some of The Fire Show’s members crafted straightforward pop in their previous band, Number One Cup, but now they erect miniature epics that evolve grandly from movement to movement while straddling the line between melody and dissonance.