Through the ages, Canada has forced upon our fair nation a great many musical plagues, most notably Alanis Morrissette. Not only did Ms. Morrisette scoff at American culture by shattering Boston's long-standing record for the best-selling debut album of all time, she also belittled the Christian faith by claiming enough resemblance to God to portray Him/Her in a terrible, terrible film. Unfortunately, a rap sheet such as this is not uncommon among Canadian artists. Celine Dion, for instance, is guilty of equally heinous crimes, and is spared a full personal attack only because she recently called it quits, thereby redeeming some of her earlier atrocities.

That being said, it would take a truly special band to restore Canada to a legitimate source of musical creativity. In my opinion, godspeed you black emperor! is that band. Cult heroes since their 1998 release, F#A#(Infinity), godspeed have as much mystique surrounding their operation as they do critical recognition. When I was introduced to their music, they were described to me as a 15-piece Canadian orchestra, dwelling in a commune of anarchists near Montreal. Some of this is true; they are in fact Canadian, and they may well live on a commune. The size of the ensemble is in fact closer to eight (sometimes more), but the idea is the same.

Musically, godspeed you black emperor! inhabit a unique genre that falls somewhere between classical music and black metal. Granted, nearly every group falls squarely within these boundaries, but godspeed are different in that they borrow from both genres. From the former, they inherit their orchestral form. From the latter, they borrow their slow builds, sad melodies, and dramatic power. These traits were utilized to the fullest on their aforementioned debut LP, as well as on their outstanding 1999 release, Slow Riot For New Zero Kanada E.P. On both albums, a gradual progression toward an intense, beautiful crescendo characterizes the long, intricate compositions.

On their latest album, Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven, the formula remains roughly the same. The tracks are marathon-length (two discs, four songs), and the song form is similar. However, a few changes separate this release from their others. Horns and guitar take center stage as the string section, a mainstay of their earlier works, takes a back seat. The result is a more straightforward approach that dramatically changes the feel of the album. The first track (I will refer to them as such because they are not clearly titled), with its driving, upbeat tempo, sounds like it could be the score to an ultra-hip remake of "Last of the Mohicans." In general, the album lacks much of the subtlety that worked so beautifully to their advantage in the past. Even the group's found-sound collages, which serve as backing tracks for many sections of the album, seem more polished than before. An old man recounting his memories of Coney Island in its heyday sounds as if it was recorded in a studio, rather than on the street. The result is not necessarily a loss of authenticity, but perhaps a loss of intimacy.

In the end, however, the record's minor defects are outweighed by the continued brilliance of the group. The songs carry tremendous power and emotion, and the group once again successfully utilizes their unique stlye . Their melodies are haunting and sorrowful, and the instrumental performances are raw yet precise. Interspersed tidbits of ambient recordings (mostly on the subject of American decay), which have become godspeed's trademark, constitute the most distressing portait of our society to come from the great white north since those anarchist punkers Propagandhi stormed the Fat Wreck Chords roster. Long, beautiful, and imperfect, Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven is a fine album by a band with tremendous potential.