ne concept of literary theory that is underused in music criticism is the intentional fallacy: the belief that the author’s intent is not the singular truthful interpretation for a work. I’m applying this here because North of America does not view this as a particularly political record, and I disagree. Political records don’t have to be explicitly defined as such – in fact, after the Beastie Boys’ attempt, I would lean away from that approach – and are often most effective if they can capture some timeless discord that lingers beyond a single event. It may not have the direct instructions, but North of America’s Brothers, Sisters has explosive bursts of that polarizing focus political music requires, and even if they can’t sustain it throughout the record, it’s still a remarkable improvement from their previous output.


The opener, “Keep It on the Download,” retains the snarky titling approach of past efforts, but the moment the Morse code guitar tick and crisp drum beat starts, connections to their often unfocused attempts at melding the bent pop of Pavement with the mangled guitars of Polvo are left in the dust. “Let’s get up and get out!” is exchanged between the vocalists as the first volley of a record-long rallying cry, giving way to a propulsive bass line and impassioned gang vocals. “Wet to Dance” is explicitly a call to arms, and even if the imagery of nearly fascist dance moves isn’t intended to question the current political climate, coupling it with “Where will you go when no one leads you?” makes the connection hard to avoid. The track’s anxious, pulverizing post-punk is touched up with a well-placed keyboard line, and similar elements pop up throughout the record, highlighted by a surprising inclusion of female backing vocals on a few cuts.


“Oh My God, Oh My God, Everybody, Oh My God” proves that a mouthful of a song title and a languid opening pace doesn’t endanger the power of lines like “For campaign times, the suspicion grows / So we should never ever whisper.” Melody is back in full force, as “The Fix Is In” shows no hesitation for streamlining the groove to properly implement their layered approach to vocal melodies, while the verses of “Let’s Get Tight” depart from the ferventness of the chorus and bridge to create a highly infectious counterpoint. Dancing to the revolution may be one stipulation, but being able to remember the impetus is clearly the first step.


The problem is that the record doesn’t maintain this level of excellence throughout, even if the “sub-par” material is still markedly better than previous records. “All Actors Are Liars” covers a bit too much ground, recalling their frequently fractured past, while “Don’t Ask Me How I Did It (I’m a Young Turk)” doesn’t really kick in until the instrumental coda. Effectively, a third of the record is merely above average, a worthy effort for most bands, but the bar has been set high with the likes of “Keep It on the Download” and “The Fix Is In.”


The combination of a new bass player and a refocused execution of the multiple songwriter approach has done marvels for North of America’s angular, nervous indie rock. They have the knifing, angular guitar attack down to a science, and they regained the touch for melody they lost during their last, overly cluttered record, This Is Dance Floor Numerology. Even if Brothers, Sisters doesn’t come across as a politically charged record to your ears, it still possesses a certain force that is hard to deny.