Canasta’s Erudite Pop Highlighted By Strong Melodies

Canasta’s full-length debut is a nice slice of Chicago indie pop. Not power pop, mind you; no red-hot riffs or teenage sex lyrics here. Nor is Canasta one of those self-important outfits who smothers pretty melodies under thick layers of treacly orchestration or experimental trickery. These songs aim to highlight strong melodies, not build shrines to them, sounding at once simple and meticulously plotted.

Megan O’Connor’s piano often speaks louder than Ben Imdieke’s guitar, especially on quieter numbers like ‘Just A Star’ or the sad, lovely ‘Shadowcat.’ When Imdieke swells to rare prominence in ‘Heads Hurt Better,’ Elizabeth Lindau’s violin weaving around him and O’Connor, the result is transcendent. Vocalist Matt Priest has the perfect tone for this sort of erudite pop: earnest, literate and lonely in all the right spots.

But even when the pace picks up, Canasta never goes for wild, sweaty abandon. ‘Microphone Song’ opens the disc with Colin Sheaff’s drums rocking a railroad rhythm and John Cunningham’s moody organ dominating even the shout-along chorus. ‘An Apology’ mostly bops along like The Supremes’ ‘You Can’t Hurry Love’ until the bright horn crescendo at the end.

With six full-time members and an army of guests from local favorites like The Coctails, Poi Dog Pondering and Freakwater, Canasta manages to avoid the ‘too many cooks’ slop served by many multi-instrumentalist bands. Aside from its rather flat production, We Were Set Up is exemplary gentle pop, never cloying and almost always catchy as heck.

— Jeff Pizek, The Daily Herald (Arlington Heights, IL), November 17, 2005