he 1985 Chicago Bears’ “Super Bowl Shuffle” entered the cultural unconscious of the nation for a number of reasons – that rousing saxophone solo, “Samurai” Mike Singletary’s fresh rhymes, the Fridge’s dominant verse - but most importantly, it didn’t have the weight of history with which to contend. If the victorious Edmonton Oilers or Detroit Tigers of 1984 had recorded similar tracks, would “Super Bowl Shuffle” still be the dominant professional sports team rap song of this era? Perhaps, but it’s likely that it would only be remembered by fans of the Chicago Bears.


History has been much kinder to the Shufflin’ Crew than to Mogwai. When they released Young Team, some derided it for Slint-worship, positing that crescendo-riding post-rock had already seen its day in the sun. Now that record arguably stands as the consensus pick of the litter, possessing the lurching dynamic shifts, graceful beauty, and most importantly, deft melodic touch in the proper balance. Since then, it’s not the history of others but their own legacy that has cursed them. Rock Action, while containing moments of considerable artistic development from the dreary Come on Die Young, suffered from the ever-present irony of its title, while conversely their monumentally destructive live show and the follow up single “My Father My King” illustrated their continued penchant for those brutal dynamics. It’s hard to make sense of the band’s character amidst these seeming contradictions.


And this leads us to Mogwai’s fourth full-length, Happy Songs for Happy People, appearing eerily familiar to its predecessor with another short running time, ironic title, and affinity for vocoder. It is not, however, a complete carbon copy. The tradeoff between the albums is bittersweet; while it flows well and avoids implementing fragments or throwaways like “O I Sleep” and “Robot Chant,” it doesn’t possess a moment of transcendence like the choral finale of “2 Rights Make 1 Wrong.”


The best moments are fairly easy to miss, given the importance of subtlety to the record. The minimalist gothic tendencies of “Moses, I Amn’t” are involving, particularly given the absence of any recognizable guitar in lieu of cello and warm keyboards. “I Know You Are but What Am I” lays a wonderful bed of electronic drums and cascading melodies underneath repetitive piano punctuations. These tracks are casual and unsuspecting enough to work as background music, yet compelling on detailed listens. Mogwai has recorded quite a few of these in their recent history, but these do manage to differentiate themselves from the likes of “Sine Wave” and “Stanley Kubrick” by incorporating some new textures.


There is a smattering of the white noise barrage of yore, but it doesn’t define the record due to its very limited implementation. “Ratts of the Capital” is the requisite epic (although still short by comparison at eight and a half minutes), as its cascading harmonics give way to one of their Black Sabbath riff revivals. It’ll pull you out of your seat, but also seems too controlled and too routine, unlike the very welcome but brief burst in the middle of “Killing All the Flies.” “Stop Coming to My House” ends the record with another dramatic, albeit short crescendo, but it doesn’t come close to entering the canon of the band’s best tracks.


These Happy Songs are fine, but as with Godspeed You Black Emperor’s Yanqui U.X.O., praising competence is a backhanded compliment. The highlights would be far better suited to lesser status on a great album, and turning away from the impressive vocal performances of Rock Action to fully retreat into vocoders and hushed mumbling is a step backwards. Mogwai may continue to dominate in the live setting, but this record simply isn’t memorable enough to be spoken of in such reverence. File it under “Conference Champions Shuffle.”