The Besnard Lakes are having a moment. The band is squinting into the icy Montreal sunshine now that they've been called up to the sonic front of croissant-crunching Canadian megabands. Long after (well, "long" in the sense of indie rock trends, which fly by faster than steroid-infused Olympic runners) the international press corps and music industry figured out what was up with Arcade Fire, et al., The Besnard Lakes are heading up the second act of husband-and-wife-led, Montreal-based epic rock. They provide come-down music for the exuberant party highs of their friends and neighbors. After their first record pretty much fell flat, the Jagjaguwar label picked them up to release Besnard Lakes Are the Dark Horse, their evocative and stunning recent release that has the same folks who ignored them last time all aflutter. The record is as much classic rock and semi-psychy as it is swooning chamber music, weighted down by a languorous gait. The six-strong band also relies on foggy and sometimes desperately sad Beach Boys references, but saving the whole affair from depressing Sunday afternoon stuff is a sweetness and purposefulness that suggest the golden balance of My Bloody Valentine's Loveless. Perfect material for cleaning out heavy hearts and filling them back up again.
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