The Rogers Sisters New Album. The Question Is: If "The Invisible Deck" Is Out After Its Scene's Moment In The Limelight has Passed? mmm...Two Options

A twitchy dance-rock combo (non-electroclash division) that was playing Brooklyn house parties before they'd settled on a name, the Rogers Sisters first came across as a footnote to the crop of like-minded acts New York produced circa Y2K. But with early adopters either undergoing rapid stylistic shifts (Black Dice, Liars) or simply failing to live up to the hype (the Rapture, anybody?), the trio is beginning to sound like survivors. Named for a trick-card effect well-known in magic circles, The Invisible Deck doesn't radically rethink the dynamic forged on 2003's Purely Evil, but it does add a few new wrinkles to a subgenre that's otherwise closing in on its sell-by date.

Producer Tim Barnes, the Silver Jews drummer best known for his improv collaborations with Sonic Youth, wisely leaves the band's signature virtue intact--namely, the vocal interaction between Jennifer and Laura Rogers's chirpiness and non-sibling Miyuki Furtado's unforced rock delivery. What Barnes brings to the table is the means, or at least the license, for the members to spread their wings as instrumentalists. The thudding toms-and-maracas undertow of the opening "Why Won't You" would have been unthinkable on earlier releases. So would the rich guitar tones of "Money Matters," which begins with a sweeping electric-acoustic blend boosted from "Love Will Tear Us Apart" before detonating a barrage of Goo-ey squalls.

Unfortunately, the group's new sonic confidence isn't always matched by their material. "Your Littlest World" justifies its 6:41 with trippy, flute-and-feedback textures, but the even longer "Sooner or Later," chorus aside, is a monochord meander only a Krautrocker could love. Nothing here balances goofiness and gravity as arrestingly as the debut's global-warming-themed "Zero Point," though "The Clock" comes close, as references to "Three Blind Mice" ("the butcher's wife/a carving knife") interrupt a countdown to who-knows-what ("The clock struck one...the clock struck none"), sung by Furtado and one of the Rogers with an abandon that only increases the mystery. Even with its inconsistencies, The Invisible Deck has the unmistakable sound of a band finding its own way after its scene's moment in the limelight has passed. By City Pages



Anyone who heard 2005’s ‘Emotion Control’ – The Rogers Sisters’ spasmodic fusion of rumbling alt. country and icily detached punk poetics – will know that the Brooklyn-based threesome make the kind of nonchalant hipster-rock that only ever comes out of New York. But this album takes that super-cool, 'you-talkin’-ta-me?' aesthetic, throws in a bunch of scuzzy guitars and some punk-funk vim, and rocks. Sort of.

Ok, we’ll explain. ‘The Invisible Deck’ starts off with a triumvirate of twitchy, delinquent fuzz-pop tunes. There’s ‘Why Won’t You’, on which the sole male Sister, Miyuki Furtado, spits schizophrenic lyrics, argues with himself and ends the song shouting ‘I’m gone!’ into a garage-y squall. Real sisters Jennifer and Laura take over vocal duties on ‘Never Learn To Cry’, and their sweetypie singing is the candyfloss coating to the song’s spiky guitar thrills – it’s like Veruca Salt fronting Bloc Party. Then there’s ‘The Light’, which has the Sisters pronouncing ‘No known diseases’ like they’re giving a clean bill of health at an STD clinic. A punk rock STD clinic, obviously.

After these crackers, the album takes a shadowy turn towards the (heart of) darkness. ‘Your Littlest World’ is primal, spaced-out acid-rock that sounds like the Jesus and Mary Chain getting stoned to the Velvets while watching 'Apocalypse Now'. The great thing about the Rogers Sisters is that even when they’re playing squarely within a much-referenced rock tradition like this, their fabulously artificial-sounding vocals manage to impart a nicely ironic edge, updating it instantly, rather than coming across as Black Rebel copyists.

But after the sucker-punch of the first clutch of songs, the album starts to run out of steam. One too many tracks full of mussed-up guitar dronery goes by, and art-rock fatigue starts to set in. As the Sisters themselves say on ‘Money Matters’, ‘I don’t care, it’s not enough, I want more’. The album’s palette seems too restricted for ten tracks, and you find yourself wanting something more: a tune maybe, or something beyond the uniform aloofness. Maybe, like the Babyshambles album, it would have made a better mini-album. But like we said, it still rocks. By Gigwise

The Clock - mp3

On Too Pure Records

The Rogers Sisters