Album three, Forcefield, brings with it a more deliberate sort of polish; it’s as if the band’s studio skill—it’s produced by Doug Boehm and the band’s own singer-guitarist David Monks—has caught up to its sonic desires. There’s still a playful punkishness in evidence, but also a clearer eye toward the shiniest pop, something TPC has always secretly been good at. It’s easy to imagine a band meeting in which somebody said, “You know what? Let’s just go for it,” and everybody else solemnly agreed. How “it” is defined for Forcefield: no fear of big choruses and clean sounds.
That’s manifested nowhere more strongly than in the excellent album opener “Argentina (Parts I, II, III)”—nothing says “maturity” more strongly than a song suite. Over eight and a half minutes, the band shows every side of its personality, from straightforward pop with big melodies to a more atmospheric, new-wave-inspired comedown. It’s followed by “Hot Tonight,” which has a Strokes-at-the-disco swagger that’s both engaging and a little bit hollow, but in the way that a lot of great pop songs are. If they’re looking for a payday, TPC should try and sell this one to a boy band; in the right hands, it could be a Hot 100 jam—hell, it might be one in these hands if they’re lucky.
It’s a hell of a start that Forcefield mostly manages to keep rolling, though it does slow a bit toward the end: “Tunnel Vision” rides a weird little sample and a very ’80s synth to greatness, but “Feel The Effect” ends things on a chillier note than the record deserves. Still, four years after Champ, the whole thing feels like a step forward, or at least somewhere interesting, off to the side.
