Rubik - Jesus Vs. People (2007)

CD1 (Jesus): 1) Jesus; 2) Motorik Haiku; 3) Telec; 4) Swim Swim Swim; 5) Hell=; 6) Yes I Know But Thank You Anyway
CD2 (People Go Missing): 1) Telecvokning; 2) Haiku Motorik; 3) Don't Take a Swim; 4) Feel Like a Spark; 5) (untitled); 6) Just Heads Dropping

A set of two EPs: one the band's debut EP, the second a reimagination of it. Musically and conceptually intriguing.

Key tracks: "Haiku Motorik" / "Motorik Haiku"

Jesus vs People pulls together two EPs from both sides of Rubik’s debut Bad Conscience Patrol. On one side you have the debut EP People Go Missing, while the other is a set of new songs dubbed the Jesus EP, named after and tied behind the radio mix of the Bad Conscience Patrol cut “Jesus/Hypnotist”. The really interesting thing comes with the tracklists - half of Jesus features half of People Go Missing, re-envisioned and re-recorded by a now more experienced and adventurous band. What could just have been a re-release or a set of stop gap songs in-between albums is now instead a fascinating snapshot of a band in development, hinting at the future by reworking their own past. 

People Go Missing managed to create a bit of a buzz around the band when it was first released, including myself, and if there’s one specific reason for that it’s “Haiku Motorik”. Early Rubik were moody and intense, coming across as a mixture of Radiohead’s atmospherics and Mew’s dynamics, and “Haiku Motorik” was where the two met perfectly. Initially propelled by a steady beat and a twinkling piano melody, it eventually explodes into a swarm of guitars, keyboards and sheer muscular power as if by a flick of a switch - and for myself and I presume for many others, that flick is the moment when Rubik went from a better-than-average MySpace act to a genuine point of interest. It’s still by and far the best thing on the EP and a highlight even in the overall discography, its primal power never getting old. It’s bookended by good company: the creeping, stop-start/quiet/loud starter “Telecvokning” gets into a good swing with its guitar-heavy choruses (it’s easy to forget how guitar-driven this band was in the early days) even if the constant pauses start eating the song away a little towards the end, while “Don’t Take a Swim” completes the great starter trilogy with its laidback lounge groove that builds up nicely during its runtime, complete with some deliciously earworm-y melodies and details. The second half of the EP doesn’t quite measure up to its first: there’s a clear focus on slow-building creep and further quiet/loud dynamics, but while the calmer “Feel Like a Spark” and the rawer “Just Heads Dropping” (as well as the untitled instrumental interlude) are fine, they’re clearly cut from a less memorable cloth than the first three songs. 

Which is why it makes sense that it’s the first half that’s been chosen to go through the facelift process on the newer half of the collection. The Jesus EP foreshadows the band’s move away from the more traditional rock sound of their debut into a more developed sound of their own, toning away some of the guitars and beginning to introduce new sonic elements – in this EP’s case it mainly manifests in some electronic flavourings. “Motorik Haiku” is the clearest example as the original’s name is flipped and its sound turned into a full-on electronica/synth-pop form, with the previous structure and arrangement twisted and played around with. It’s enjoyable and groovy in its own way, but the dynamics have been smoothened out as well and the result isn’t as explosive as the original. “Telecvokning” (now just “Telec”) on the other hand gets a rekindled fire under its belly with some processed sound that underline the atmosphere, a more powerful production that really gives it an oomph and a more consistently rocking finale in place of the original’s dynamic flips. “Swim Swim Swim” keeps mostly to the original, but it speeds up the tempo into a rapid shuffle. It could go either way – I prefer the surreal chill vibe of the original but the band sound more hyped up in the remake, and they both have their strengths to an equal degree. 

The last two songs on Jesus are new to the EP, but still follow the footsteps of People Go Missing by ending the suite on two slow, atmospheric dirges. Much like with the first EP as well, these are lesser works compared to the rest; though, that said, “Hell=” turns out be an understatedly pretty song that almost becomes a highlight of its own, thanks to its admittedly nifty guitar work. The apocalyptic “Yes I Know But Thank You Anyway” builds wall of sound around itself as it grows into its booming ending, but for all the dramatic bluster it still struggles to stand out. In addition to the two final songs, there’s also the lead-in track “Jesus”, originally one of Bad Conscience Patrol’s highlights with its unexpextedly softer and lusher tone. Now the extended collapse and rebuild of its middle section has been chopped off and it carries a more radio-shiny mixing courtesy of outside mixer Michael Ilbert, but it’s hardly a radical reworking and all the song’s strengths are still intact. It’s a little superfluous and out of place here, carrying little similarity to any of the other five songs, but it’s still a lovely song - and out of everything on the EP, it’s “Jesus” that would signal the band’s upcoming progression the clearest.

Neither of the two EPs are all-out great as they both fizzle out towards the end, but the inclusion of the Jesus side in the first place turns both into something more interesting than the pure sum of their parts. They’re not only just an interesting duo to compare and contrast with each other (clearly intended by the band), but it quickly yet effectively doubles up the amount of great moments. Even if they’re interpretations of the same material, they’re fully distinct enough for neither to fully overthrow the other. This is obviously a curio grab for the bigger fans and the main attraction is the re-issue of People Go Missing, but the band were kind enough to make it more than just a plain re-release. 

Rating: 7/10

Rubik - Bad Conscience Patrol (2007)

1) Sleeps a Friendly Stranger; 2) A Hard Try; 3) City & the Streets; 4) Buildings; 5) Hinges; 6) Why Don't You Let It Happen; 7) The Interventionist; 8) Jesus/Hypnotist; 9) Bill Withers; 10) Wrappt in a Carpet

Rubik as a rock band. Unfairly forgotten: the later albums really don't show off just how solid these guys were with guitars, and you can find a lot of classics here.

Key tracks: "A Hard Try", "City & the Streets", "Jesus/Hypnotist"

Funny how things change in retrospect. Once upon a time Bad Conscience Patrol sounded like a brand new band's promising, exciting entrance: an album that was clearly hailing from an established, popular sound but which had a lot of great songwriting to it and enough personality that it was clear Rubik would be a force to reckoned with once they'd find their own voice. And they truly did find it, to the point that everything after the first album bears barely a resemblance to Bad Conscience Patrol, and the debut now looks like a bizarre relic out of place in the band's discography. What made Rubik so interesting in the first place ultimately proved to have no bearing to why they would be a great band.

But back in 2007, Rubik were a part of the wave of rock bands borne in the aftermath of OK Computer. Bad Conscience Patrol flicks through various strains the post-Radiohead bands took, switching from millennial paranoia and anxiety to sky-piercing anthems laced with careful hope. Bad Conscience Patrol wears its influences in its sleeves and some songs lean towards their inspirations more than others ("Wrappt in a Carpt" sounds exactly what you would write after binging on OK Computer, the Yorke-isms of the title included) but Rubik carefully flash their own character throughout, to make it clear there's more to them than their record collection. The band's characteristic erratic creativity is present already, leading to plenty of unexpected twists along the way that aren't all too obvious from the initial notes: the bonkers rhythm-flicking assault of "Buildings" isis the musical equivalent of your cat having a sudden freak-out running around the room, and "Why Don't You Let It Happen" shifts moods from murky organ pitter-patter to a jovial march and eventually an epic closure like three songs perfectly inhabiting a single skin. They bring a touch of something surprising to the mix, songs rarely going exactly where you imagined they would from the first notes.

The big (re-)revelation Bad Conscience Patrol offers is that it's a showcase of just how solid and powerful Rubik were as a rock band - something that the later albums would go to great lengths to obscure. The majority of the songs here breathe the spirit of 90s Britrock but reflected through a unique kind of Nordic lens by way of e.g. Mew: something a little more muscular biding its time in the background, brighter melodies interspersed with crunchy riffs. Rubik also prove that they can go hard if they wanted to: distorted explosions of guitar walls are deployed tactically throughout, keeping the songs on their toes. "Sleeps a Friendly Stranger" and the aforementioned "Buildings" harness Rubik's manic energy into slightly askew rock anthems that rampage like wild beasts in an enclosed space, "The Interventionist" and "Bill Withers" are the album's rock edge at loudest and crunchiest with the former a emotion-laden cry for action and the latter the album's darkest and heaviest cut, and while "Hinges" tones down the guitars and locks into a groove, it keeps its tension bubbling under. Even when they're most obviously paying tribute to their idols, the songwriting stays strong: "Wrappt in a Carpt" may sound like a ripoff but it's a top quality one, building to a finale wrapped in its own paranoia and closing the album to a spellbinding degree, leaving the album to rest on a disquieting but memorable note.

On three particular occasions Rubik completely knock it out of the park, and it's the album's three singles that show Bad Conscience Patrol at its strongest. "City and the Streets" in particular: it's a phenomenal song that for four and a half minutes sounds like the only music there is that matters, soaring in its melancholy euphoria with Artturi Taira's mumbling falsetto instantly becoming the kind of voice that could recite a phone book and resonate a hundredfold. It's one of the best rock songs that Finland has produced to these ears, without any hyperbole: a landmark Finnish indie classic the likes of which rarely land. The towering "A Hard Try" almost does it again, being a hit that never was: an honest-to-god guitar anthem that reaches blissfully cathartic highs through its melodic firework choruses. It's not close to being as strong a "City & the Streets" but that only speaks to the strengths of that song; on its own "A Hard Try" is a classic cut that could have launched a new band with some wider exposure. The last of the lot is also the album's oddball moment, which ironically turned out to be the one thing here that hints where Rubik would venture: the bright, airy and melodic "Jesus/Hypnotist" is in such a huge contrast to anything else on the album that the whole song on its own is a surprise (one of the lead melodic instruments is a banjo), and it's only its guitar-revved finale that brings it in line with the rest of the album. But, its colourful pop twinkle is a thing of beauty and marvel from the get-go: it's so warmly welcoming that the fact that it's so out of place between two of the album's murkiest songs gets brushed away quickly from way of enjoyment. If anything, it acts as the album's brief respite moment as it launches its darker final cuts.

It's practically inevitable but Bad Conscience Patrol itself is framed by its strangeness from its own discography and it's hard to really discuss it without making those comparisons; especially as the kaleidoscopic, more technicolour outfit Rubik changed into gave them the brief amount of wider international exposure and thus sealed the deal as their definitive sound. Following Rubik's dissolution and the attestment that three albums (and some EPs) are all we'll ever get, Bad Conscience Patrol has (perhaps surprisingly) managed to hold its weight better than expected and arguably sounds even better than it did when Rubik's transformation was a current event taking the attention away from the humble beginnings. It's a different side of the band here, utilising their wild ideas into a shape that's on one hand more conventional and something we've all heard before, but in Rubik's hands becomes something that frequently surprises, inspires and, in the end, still excites.  While Bad Conscience Patrol may not win all the points on originality, it's thrilling and engaging, and Rubik as a guitar-driven rock outfit could easily stand with the best of their peers. With time the album revealed itself to be more than just a debut with great promise; instead, it can confidently be called a small classic of the rich Finnish 00's indie scene that stands strongly on its own accord.

Rating: 8/10