We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves
Some might say John Maus needs to censor *himself*, perhaps ease up on the reverb saturation and resist the thieving of Joy Division bass lines and ‘80s analog synth texture. But a growing number of fans praise Maus and his unrepetent moods of doom, his exaggerated baritone that borders on satire (Bela Lugosi’s dead!), his fondness for ridiculously churchy organs. What is his story, you might ask? He’s a sturdy Midwestern son, PhD student, and pals (and collaborator) with musical cousins Ariel Pink and Panda Bear. *We Must Become …* is Maus’s third and most cohesive album, though hooks still evade and compelling atmospherics are the order of the day. The wow factor on a few tunes might help reticent listeners come around to falling under Maus’ spell: the chilling waltz that is “Cop Killer,” the gothy “Quantum Leap,” and “Hey Moon,” a gorgeous, dreamy duet with the notable Molly Nilsson (the song’s author), all might catch skeptics by surprise. Actually, if the Gregorian chant-haunted “Keep Pushing On” and the synth pop euphoria of “Believer” don’t convince you, you may as well move along.
We Must Become The Pitiless Censors Of Ourselves breaks new ground for John Maus; the shirt-pulling and air punching of his impassioned live performance is finally captured in all its frenzied appeal alongside his typically tender inner space. Packaged in a card sleeve.
The avant-pop songwriter whose career has intersected with that of Ariel Pink focuses on melody and delivers a delightfully weird full-length.
John Maus’ lo-fi experiments have been dismissed as vintage-electronica wankery, but that can’t account for how much of We Must Become The Pitiless Censors Of Ourselves lingers in the ears long after the album’s end. As on his previous two records, Maus kneels at the altar of ’80s-era synth pop, muttering incoherently…
John Maus, a close friend of Ariel Pink, crafts pop music with a similar aesthetic.
John Maus's sombre baritone is offset by naff synths, but this is serious stuff, writes <strong>Hermione Hoby</strong>
We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves is engineered for minimal accessibility and maximum pretension.
An album of beguiling synthpop from a political philosophy lecturer. <strong>Michael Hann</strong> is intrigued