Pitchfork

It's hard to believe that, up until now, Ra Ra Riot had only one EP to their name. The Syracuse-based chamber pop crew has garnered plenty of attention over its two-year existence, despite a limited recorded output. Such attention came, at first, in the form of breathless reviews of early festival appearances and accounts of their tireless slogs across the country, but most of the headlines since have focused on the inter-band tribulations: losing their frontman during their first year of existence and then suffering an even bigger setback when drummer/co-founder John Ryan Pike was found dead early last summer after a show in Providence, Rhode Island. But finally, with the release of their full-length debut, Ra Ra Riot are placing the emphasis firmly back on musical matters.

Nautically named and themed, The Rhumb Line reminds us why we cared about this band in the first place. Its mournful cellos and haunting violins are dissonantly (if pleasingly) matched with triumphant rhythms and exultant melodies, resulting in a record that is at once grand and intimate. With moments of pop savvy reminiscent of their pals in Vampire Weekend and the emotional subtlety of the Shins, Ra Ra Riot's songs inhabit a space that is both bubbly and bittersweet. To wit, swirling album opener "Ghost Under Rocks" blooms from a melancholic cello line into skittering, propulsive post-punk percussion. And their excellent cover of Kate Bush's "Suspended in Gaffa" finds the appropriate whimsy in the bounce of the melody, but makes the song safe for those who are uncomfortable with Bush's theatrical trilling.

But Ra Ra Riot, as their name implies, are not only capable of autumnal, Arcade Fire hymns. "St. Peter's Day Festival" and "Can You Tell" represent the breezier, brighter side of the band, taking perky melodies and swelling them with luscious string arrangements. Those strings prove to be the secret to Ra Ra Riot's success; "Too Too Too Fast", on which they lean on synths rather than the organic warmth of a cello or violin, is the flattest of the bunch.

Much of The Rhumb Line sounds like an elegy-- though Pike co-wrote roughly half of this album's songs before his passing. "Dying Is Fine", with its ee cummings-borrowed lyrics ("Death, oh baby/ You know that dying is fine/ But maybe/ I wouldn't like death, if death was good") is sadly apropos, but it eventually explodes into an anthemic, cheery chorus. "Winter '05", set before Pike's death, is more mournful: You can hear the band's loss in the elegant, weeping strings, the descriptions of lonely cemeteries, and Wesley Miles' vocals as he sings, "If you were here/ Winter wouldn't pass quite so slow." It's rare for a band to survive the death of a key member, but Ra Ra Riot are actually thriving, turning The Rhumb Line from a potential "what could've been" record into a rousing, poignant testament to Pike's life and his former bandmates' resilience.