Weekend - Jinx

Apparently, ‘Jinx’, the second album from San Franciscan shoe-gazing pals Weekend, was born of a democratic process. The process (and yes, it’s possible to mis-interpret such things; bear with us) of taking things that belong to each member of the group – vocalist/bassist Shaun Durkan, guitarist Kevin Johnson and drummer Abe Pedroza – putting them together, and painting them black. Adding “a new, collective ownership over the previous personal meaning”, so we’re told.

Other than any artistic statements, that should mean it’s a black record. But it’s not. ‘Jinx’ promises much more than it delivers, veering from yes, charcoal grey at times, to duckegg in others. It pulls in two directions: the rhythm section (see ‘June’ for a case in point) suggests post-punk minimalism; almost gothic in tone and with innate intensity. The vocals and guitars, on the other hand, are – relatively – brightly-coloured sprinkles. “I feel sick, sick, sick”, Durkan wails, as if he doesn’t mean it at all.



As for where Weekend’s contemporaries have married their doomy noise with a deep baritone vocal – see Paul Banks, Tom Smith or even Matt Berninger’s booms – Durkan’s croon sounds just that little too… weak. So it’s when any expectation of spookiness or industralism is removed that ‘Jinx’ feels most at one – see ‘Celebration’ marrying it with a more dance-oriented, baggy beat.



Disjointed rather than bad; there’s undoubtedly a cross-section for which the not-quite-post-punk, not-quite-shoegaze combination works. Let’s hope they find it.