I like to know that twenty-something kids are raging about the planet and the mess they're inheriting. But the feeling I get from Canada is more sad than mad, more fearful than forceful, more disappointed than disaffected. Most of their songs have a dirgelike quality, as if dragged down by heavy hearts and solemn minds. The overlay of two cellos to the traditional lineup of guitar, bass, drums, and keyboard adds depth and darkness that greatly strengthens the tunes as well as the gloom.
Fortunately, the band members also see beauty on this cursed planet, and other songs feel like a walk in fallen leaves. Tight harmonic singing, acoustic strumming, and the frequent appearance of a childlike glockenspiel and simple Melodica give these tunes a sweet innocence. One track even features a manual typewriter as the percussion instrument. Slight influences of Celtic, klezmer, and bolero styles provide added complexity.
Even when Canada's music goes dark and dreary, it's not dissonant. It's easy to like, because there's little provocative or challenging going on. The songwriters have an ear for a good melodic line, and they've written several that quickly become familiar. It's not dance music in the same way that Neil Young isn't dance music. The song structure may be missing the hooks and surprises that such pondering pieces need, but Canada will get there with more experience.