Dr. Dog – Shame Shame

Oh Dr. Dog, you’re the band I’ve been meaning to listen to for what seems like forever.  Despite having been quite interested in the group for the last few of their critically acclaimed releases, something has just kept me from checking them out.  So while I should be well versed in the intricacies of Dr. Dog for the release of their ANTI- debut, Shame Shame, I’m more of a newcomer.  But as it turns out, even most seasoned veterans will likely feel like greenhorns during their first listen.

Up until now, Dr. Dog has built their career around the world of aged indie folk, with roots tracing back to Bob Dylan, not unlike relative newcomers Deer Tick or Nathan Xander.  Shame Shame retains much of the simplicity of its predecessors, but places a new emphasis on flowing retro melody, and full band compositions.  Where dual vocalists Toby Leaman and Scott McMicken once divided the labour discretely, they now play off one another in harmony.  Those worried that such a move would serve to eliminate much of the band’s complexity and range can relax, because Shame Shame serves to consolidateDr. Dog’s many vectors of excitement, simply presenting them in a new light – which based on many critics’ take on 2008’s Fate, is well over due.

But as with most Dr. Dog releases, the album retains a retro sense loosely rooted in, but not limited to, the 1960’s.  Shame Shame gives off a strong psychadellic sense (even a peppering of jazz here and there) kept in motion by lazy retro rock guitars.  On opener “Stranger,” vocalist Leaman channels a delicate analog quality blending right in with a backdrop of shaking tambourines, carefully timed upstrokes, and amplified but not overpowering bass lines.  The result is playful without being abrasive, and uplifting without indulging in celebration (but if you really want something a little bigger and goofier, just check out “later” a few tracks in).  After their big entrance, McMicken takes the reins on “Shadow People” and opens with a crawl, comprised of the melancholy strum of an acoustic guitar, with the intermittent stroke of piano keys and rhythm guitars, eventually taking off with a shimmering reverberating slide before sneaking in the track’s electronic percussive elements.

As previously mentioned, both vocalists trade duties regularly, but a third voice often bridges the two.  That voice is actually an amalgamation of background contributions from each other and their bandmates.  Sometimes faint, other times commanding – but always harmonious – they’re altogether essential when filling out tracks and achieving an ambitious, “full” melody.  Furthermore, the band never overuses their backing sounds.  Compare the beach boys-esque “ba ba ba da da” on “Sometimes” with “Mirror Mirror”’s comprehensible harmonies and backing loops and these various elements cement themselves as essentials rather than parlor tricks.

Shame Shame is incredibly consistent without ever feeling repetitive.  Freshness is the key here, and considering Shame Shame represents somewhat of a departure for Dr. Dog, they’ve quickly become masters of a great many new possibilities.  While the band may have been strictly for fans of Dylan and Deer Tick in the past, their foray into smooth melodies expands their draw to fans of indie poppers like labelmates Islands.

So if you’ve been on the fence, or like myself, just never found the time for a check in, there’s never been a better time for an appointment with Dr. Dog.