Maps & Atlases – Beware and Be Grateful

Since their formation in 2004, Chicago four-piece Maps & Atlases have musically morphed and mutated in multiple ways. Both sonically and technically, their 10-track second long player Beware and Be Grateful marks a stark contrast from their finger-tapping math influenced EPs and even deviates from their perfectly formed 2009 debut album Perch Patchwork. In many ways the title’s use of “Beware” inadvertently signals a sentiment which many existing fans might share. While it’s undeniably a Maps & Atlases record – there’s no mistaking Dave Davison’s astonishing yet abrasive falsetto vocals and the kinetic glide of their guitar parts – there’s an element of their former technical tapestry missing from the heart of this release. The difficulty lies is in identifying exactly what that puzzling missing piece is.

Maps & Atlases’ sound today is a blend of detailed folky guitar structures, hints towards their math rock roots and a renewed melodic sensibility. This is showcased immediately with acoustic first track ‘Old & Gray’, which begins with soft four-part vocal harmonies, before it continuously simmers, its quietness showing off Davison’s varied and distinctive vocals to perfection. It’s a fitting introduction to the album – one that announces the band’s new change of direction – yet it doesn’t linger, as its ending smoothly segues into the upbeat, key-laden ‘Fever’, its buoyant melody an indicator of the comparatively clear-cut compositions to come.

It’s only after many repeated listens that the album really reveals itself as the intricate web of melodious joy that it is. Although it’s by no means dull, it’s hard to really enjoy the album upon initial listens. This is not a case of the record’s complexity getting in the way of enjoyment – indeed Beware and Be Grateful is by far the band’s most accessible material to date, shown most notably by the frenzied ‘Fever’ and its equally upbeat follower ‘Winter’. The repetitive vocal yelping, married with leaping picked guitar parts recall Foals’ ‘This Orient’’s equally syncopated introduction, continuing with a euphoric ’80s chorus and electronic drum beats. Subsequent song ‘Remote And Dark Years’ continues its creators’ overhauled preference for melody over manic time signatures: although the vocal starts off quick and conversational, it slows to a more pedestrian pace, its percussion barely audible, its structure classic and commercial.

As such, one of Beware and Be Grateful’s strengths lies in its variety – indeed no two songs sound the same – and nowhere is the band’s diversity shown more than within its centrepiece ‘Silver Self’. Its hymnal, a capella introduction is markedly different to its predecessors ‘Fever’ and ‘Winter’, yet after its initial soft introduction it breaks into a repetitive, syncopated ditty – complete with an extended guitar solo – for its remaining five minutes. It’s unusual, certainly, and in choosing to opt for keyboard-based percussion over live drumming it’s destined to be divisive, as is following song ‘Vampires’ with its strangely structured guitar riffs, unnervingly coupled with feverish piano harmonies towards the song’s end.

Structurally, final track ‘Important’ is not a million miles away from Bon Iver’s recent album closer ‘Beth/Rest’. With its ’80s instrumentation, soaring piano and vocal harmonies and the comparatively slower pace, it’s as close to a ballad as Maps & Atlases are ever going to get. Discounting its closing synths – an amalgamation of faint, eerie haunted house style squeals – ‘Important’ is a truly unusual direction for the band, and its placing illustrates the dilemma Beware and Be Grateful will present to many Maps & Atlases fans. While the band’s less experimental and more direct approach may well open the door to a certain number of new listeners, it’s also sure to alienate others. And although it’s by no means an average album – as well as being far from inaccessible – those hoping that this might be the record that propels Maps & Atlases further into public consciousness might be somewhat disappointed.