Hi, I’m the new kid at Hearwax. I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Lauren. I’ve been writing ever since I first picked up a pencil, but thus far in my career I’ve only ever published poetry or fiction. I’ve never actually reviewed anything before – well, out loud. I review people’s misguided fashion choices and horrible musical tastes, but they are confined to my somewhat bitchy and elitist internal dialogue and the occasional journal entry. Basically, I love to hear the sound of my own voice. I was thrilled when Alec asked me to contribute my opinions on things. I’m full of opinions, especially about music. I resolutely refused to review anything with screaming in it, whether be screamo, metal, or whatever the screechy fuckery Brokencyde makes is called. I already get frequent migraines. I don’t need to induce any more of them by listening to a bunch of angry white guys Beavis and Butt-Head would headbang to while listening to their Walkmans (oh, the nineties!) in the back row of their Special Ed class.

Thankfully, I was spared having to tolerate metal. Instead, I got assigned Tegan and Sara, a band I’ve actually never listened to before. I’ve heard of them before, but I’d always been under the impression that they were some mopey fe-Bright Eyes/ Joanna Newsom-esque band of chicks with acoustic guitars and whispery voices, largely because the people I know that are Tegan and Sara fans are generally chicks who whisper while playing their acoustic guitars. So, when Alec sent me the link to Tegan and Sara’s MySpace, I thought to myself, “Hm. I’m the one girl around here, so I’m going to be assigned all the chick music. I see how it is.” I forget where I was going with this. Anyway, Tegan and Sara;

On one hand, they aren’t screaming. THANK GOD. I am all out of Head-On. On the other, they aren’t really doing anything else. Tegan and Sara are not the watered-down Joan Baez I expected they would be. They’re a watered-down Rilo Kiley, without Jenny Lewis’s far superior voice and general adorable bohemian indie princess charisma. And I don’t even like Rilo Kiley. Or maybe I do, but all I can think about when I listen to their music is whether or not I should dye my hair Jenny Lewis red. It’s really pretty! What can I say, I have pretty severe ADHD (and I was diagnosed by a doctor, I’m not one of those poseur “OMG LOL I’M SO RANDOM I HAVE ADD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” types, I will literally walk right into oncoming traffic on Bloor Street because I’m trying to remember my cat’s birthday or something), so shiny things distract me. Jenny Lewis’s hair is really shiny.

ANYWAY. This album. It’s decent. It’s not groundbreaking. It’s not life-changing. It’s not even really that good. Ironically, one of the songs is called “The Cure,” and … wait for it … I would much, much rather listen to The Cure than this tripe. Yep, cue the Sad Trombone, that may just be the least funny pun I’ve ever made (and I have made many). Seriously though, put on Disintegration instead. You’re not missing out on much.
That being said, there’s one song on this album worth a download. “Northshore” is seriously catchy. It almost sounds like something you’d hear on a No Doubt album pre-Tragic Kingdom. If Sainthood maintained this hyperactive up-tempo throughout the whole album, my review would be vastly different. But it doesn’t. Aside from this one track, every other song sounds so similar to one another that they all sort of bleed together into … meh. Perhaps their previous efforts are stronger – I’m going to look into their older stuff out of sheer curiosity – but this one falls flat.

(6.0/10)