Montreal based Nightwood's full length debut album, Carta Marina, is a fascinating experience. Nightwood have focused their considerable talent on creating a true album. In an age when records are rapidly becoming either a loose amalgamation of songs or hyper-intensive concept albums, it seems the idea of musical albums as they once existed is becoming obsolete. Amber Goodwyn, Erin Ross and Jeremy MacCuish have shown us otherwise.

Carta Marina (Latin for “map of the sea”) is a collection of ten songs that are neither completely dependent nor independent of each other. It is difficult to imagine listening to a single track off of this album, yet each individual track exists in its own world. The songs are linked by reference to the sea and nautical life, but are not so heavy-handed in this reference that the individual songs lose their deeper meaning. Carta Marina manages to balance itself quite skillfully. “The Island of Forgetfulness” is a song about guilt driven as much by the foreboding guitars of Goodwyn and Ross as by its lyrics, which couch the experience of guilt in metaphors about islands and beaches. Meanwhile “Maritimer” is a track which more clearly brings to mind a sailor's life. While perhaps a bit hyperbolic, the band's own description of the album is very nearly accurate: “Carta Marina’s songs are like sailors lying snug against each other below deck, whispering stories about life at sea, a bottle passed back and forth, adrift amidst oceanic rock and roll.”

It is this success in producing a real album that makes another aspect of the release so annoying. Nightwood has chosen to release the album in only two formats: on a 12” vinyl and as a digital download. While the vinyl lovers among us can rejoice in having another ally, the rest of us can only wonder what we have done to deserve such scorn. Nightwood proudly declares their choice of format in the press release for the album: “Carta Marina is a ten-song album in the truest sense of the word: the release formats are exclusively 12” vinyl LP and digital download.” It seems that Nightwood believes the idea of an album is contained within the format, and compact discs are not that format. It is hard to see this choice as anything but a silly pretension. Too often, independent bands become more focused on being independent bands than on being musicians. While it is hard to think of another justification for the choice of release formats, it is all too easy to make the assumption that the band believes that this somehow gives them more indie cred.

That one glaring fault aside, the album is a joy to lovers of independent rock. MacCuish's percussion nearly perfectly complements the brooding guitars of Goodwyn and Ross. The vocals are a skilled match for the music, shifting with ease from gritty to polished passages. While the album is a serious one, it never loses sight of the idea of fun. The songs manage to convey their concepts without being bleak; indeed, the album is at times quite bouncy, as in the happy sounding guitar riffs of “Play the Dishes/Wash the Guitar.” It is certainly interesting to hear lines such as “I call shotgun, I cry rape / I'm getting married, my period's late,” belted out by two confident female vocalists with no trace of mournfulness.

Carta Marina is yet another reminder of all that Montreal's independent music scene has to offer. It is an album made by artists who clearly have both a desire and ability to one day be masters of their craft. It shows remarkable maturity to craft an album which flows together so well and demands such attention from the listener. Nightwood have established themselves as a band worth watching.

Track List:
1. Heavy Magic Is Coming (5:37)
2. Maritimer (3:15)
3. Johnny (2:19)
4. Sunken Mountains (3:24)
5. Island of Forgetfulness (4:12)
6. Skeleton Crew (4:02)
7. Sturgeon (2:53)
8. Play the Dishes/Wash the Guitar (3:10)
9. Gretta At a Window (3:27)
10. Bright Girls of Summer (5:16)