‘Equus Asinus’ Album Review: A Sturdy, Reliable Record

The cover of the most recent album by Canadian indie band Men I Trust, “Equus Asinus,” is a photograph of a slow domestic scene. A shirtless man in large, wire-framed glasses and khaki shorts works at an ironing board. In the background, another person sits by an unmade bed. There’s a quiet stillness to the scene, evident in the subjects’ solemn expressions and the lighting’s fuzzy glow. For followers of the band, it’s reminiscent of the album cover to “Untourable Album” from 2021, which features a Lynn Goldsmith photograph of children smiling amidst the backdrop of a gray, misty day.

Indeed, sparseness and slowness have characterized much of Men I Trust’s intimate dream pop. “Equus Asinus” embraces this tonal palette by employing subdued yet layered production that floats around singer Emma Proulx’s airy vocals. It’s a familiar place for the band, and it’s what they do well. At its best, the record is a warm sonic embrace neatly wrapped around lovely poetic musings evocative of Imagist poetry. Yet, even as the band experiments with a more acoustic sound, the record loses its charm at times by becoming repetitive and uniform. Like its namesake, “Equus Asinus” is endearing, but also undeniably plodding.

Album opener “I Come With Mud” re-familiarizes listeners with Men I Trust’s songwriting mode while introducing newer elements to the mix. Straying from the band’s penchant for electronic production elements, the track starts with a simple acoustic guitar strumming pattern and bass line that drone in the background. Even if the instrumentation has changed, its emphasis on lower voices and deliberate phrasing is characteristic of the band’s work.

The melody, introduced through slide guitar riffs then taken over by Proulx’s singing before being handed off to a distorted guitar solo, is slow but catchy. The melodic lines don’t feel monotonous in their repetition (at least, not yet) but contemplative as they linger naturally between transitions.

Lyrically, “I Come With Mud” establishes the album’s focus on introspection based in the language of natural imagery. On the opening track, Proulx hushedly imagines a strange, yet captivating kind of affection as she pictures emerging from a kind of primordial soup, driven only by love.

On another standout track, “The Landkeeper,” the natural world fondly remembers the titular figure: “Gentle hands that shaped the earth /Alive and gave it worth / With love, a lasting birth.” It’s a charming meditation on love and legacy, well complemented by an intricate arrangement of plucky bass, bright electric piano lines, and sustained strings. As these different voices drift in and out, Proulx’s reflections on the ephemerality of life are poignantly felt. This focus on the natural world never feels gimmicky, but a consistent and genuine means of expressing a range of experiences.

Going from love of a global to a personal scale, “Burrow” recounts, “Felt your spleen move in mine / In the landslide of your care / Birds of breath undermined.” Twangy country-style guitar licks at the end of each line almost sound like sighs escaping with the speaker’s fleeing breath.

Although the album’s songwriting stands out upon a close listen, it’s difficult to appreciate in its sonic packaging, which becomes repetitive by the end of the record. That’s not to say that Men I Trust don’t push forward the boundaries of their musical toolbox with “Equus Asinus.” “Frost Bite” stands out with its folksy guitar arpeggios, and “Paul’s Theme” finds the band in a grandiose mood with cinematic strings and a jazz piano solo. These are welcome touches, but too subtle.

Listening to the album front to back, the lasting sonic impression is indistinct, spread across a record that sounds largely monotone. There’s the insistent downbeats (found reliably in bass or electric piano), ephemeral vocals, and musical formula of developing a melody through exchange between voices.

The exciting details that distinguish songs are almost like Easter eggs that need to be uncovered beneath the veneer, and they’re not the most rewarding to find. More heavy-handedness in showcasing their new creative choices may have sacrificed some nuance, but could have produced a more easily appreciable record.

Still, there’s much to enjoy in Men I Trust’s latest album. Like all their work, “Equus Asinus” is entirely self-produced by the band, as evidenced by their cohesive sound. Indeed, with this latest project, Men I Trust seems to be in the continued pursuit of an independent and unique vision for their music. Having found a kind of songwriting they enjoy making and that is compelling for listeners, they have doubled down while still leaving room for subtle developments. That’s not such a bad thing.

Further, Men I Trust has announced that “Equus Asinus” is the first in a duet of albums to be released this spring, to be followed by the forthcoming “Equus Caballus.” Maybe, then, “Equus Asinus” is like its equine inspiration: sturdy and reliable, if a little mundane. There’s much to look forward to with “Equus Caballus.”

—Staff writer Andrew K. Choe can be reached at andrew.choe@thecrimson.com.