The Birthday Massacre – Pins And Needles

Over the past ten years The Birthday Massacre has gained momentum in synthrock and gothic circles for their infectious brand of dark electronic pop.  For this they can thank their uncanny ability for combining industrial, synth, pop, and rock, for a sound at once sweeter, harsher, and drearier than the sum of its parts.  But this is a band that gets better with age, and with their latest release, Pins And Needles, everything that worked so well before comes together for The Birthday Massacre’s most seamless take yet, and one of the most inviting gothic releases of the years.

I realize that my own enthusiasm for some inherently “dark” niches – like horror punk and psychobilly – can lead to some glowing recommendations that others might receive less readily.  Pins And Needles is different; niche goer, casual listener, die-hard – there’s something here for everyone.  And to top it off, they achieve such success all the while resisting the urge of succumbing to the sugary coating of pop divas.  Think former labelmates Mindless Self Indulgence, but calm, collected, and, above all, sane.

The key to The Birthday Massacre’s success is their firm grasp of atmosphere.  Even Chibi’s voice, as cutesy and innocent as implied by its Japanese origin, holds strong amidst a sorrow filled backdrop; and even stands to strengthen the sense of inescapable tragedy – like that achieved in the weathered, analogue-inspired intros of “Pale.”  But much like their Tim Burton-esque image, they also inspire a sense of wonder.  In “Shallow Grave” Chibi describes the plight of a girl fading from existence: “her voice cuts through the walls, rings through every thing that’s hollow, the bitter words recall… all she’s got to lose is everything she never has.”  Every word comes tightly bound to a near whisper, cushioning the sad reality, and erasing any sense that the words are anything less than sincere.

Meanwhile, the steadfast thread of shadowy industrial rock weaves a blanket of connection across tracks.  It all fits together so well that it’s very easy to get lost after several tracks.  It’s tough to explain because on face value nothing really stands out, but as is the sign of a good backdrop to a movie – a backdrop strengthens and inspires, it doesn’t steal the show.  Together, an array of never stagnant, always lingering industrial synth swoops and swirls around a rocky centre, balanced by intermittent electronics.  Even when the ensemble draws upon some edgier, heavier riffs (as per “Pins And Needles”) the result is always calming – even during times of heightened malice.

With Pins And Needles The Birthday Massacre achieves a sense of beauty that eludes most gothic music.  Every song feels right at home on the record, and despite that overarching thread of continuity, justifies inclusion.  In other words, Pins And Needles strikes a fine balance between familiarity and newness that should leave listeners attentive even after the final track runs its course.

Too many people dismiss goth music (myself included) as part of a phase adolescents go through, but with Pins And Needles, The Birthday Massacre suggests otherwise.