"The International" - Washington Post

November 3, 2007

FROM OFF THE STREETS of Chicago to the streets of D.C., the up and coming indie rock band Arks is ready to get you grooving at The Velvet Lounge tonight.

Arks, who could sonically pass for Fugazi's Midwestern second cousin, come at you with relentless, driving guitars and singer Paul Hornschemeier's staccato vocals providing some haunting results. The band arrives in town touring in support of its first full length album, "The International."

While Arks' post-punk sound could comfortably assimilate into the local hardcore scene, Chicago's a different story.

"We sort of absolutely don't and absolutely do fit into the Chicago scene," Hornschemeier said.

The Chicago music scene, known for bands such as Tortoise and The Sea and Cake, purveyors of jazzy and mathy rock, really offers a much more diversified, often weirder and edgier sound, which is where Arks finds its place.

"I think a lot of times people don't necessarily know what to do with us," Hornschemeier said. "'You sound like um, uh, ahhh.' And then they give up. They'll hear one song and then the next song isn't anything like that, so they don't really know what to do with it."

It's almost fitting that the band is difficult to categorize, as Hornschemeier himself falls into the same surplus of classifications. When he's not sweating and crooning on stage, the erudite performer lives a second life as a noted cartoonist, with numerous graphic novels to his name, including "The Three Paradoxes" and "Mother, Come Home."

The multi-talent artist describes making music as his sanity that gets him out of the house and interacting creatively with other human beings.

"Honestly, doing music is a necessity because cartooning is such an insular activity," Hornschemeier said. "It's still a creative outlet, but it's much more immediate and certainly with the music we do, a fair amount more visceral then the sad sacks that I draw."

In lieu of the sad sacks, Hornschemeier compares an Arks show to that vibe you get when you go back home and your big brother is there.

"There's absolutely no pretension," he said. "I think we're a rowdy, probably somewhat drunk big brother that's just going to tease you during the show. Everybody just wants to have a good time."
— Scott Rosenberg

"The International" - Under the Radar

October 15, 2007

Damn straight-up terse post-punk rock 'n' roll. Opener "The International" tells you that this band is rehearsed and spanky. They don't relent the album is almost too consistent. There are a thousand other bands that do the same thing without what seems to be a strong work ethic, though, and that makes Arks stand out a bit.— Nate Daly

"The International" - Pitchfork

September 20, 2007

Calling Arks a one-note act would almost be a literal interpretation after hearing the opening title track of The International. Starting with a staccato snare beat, singer/guitarist Paul Hornschemeier (who's also a noted comic artist and writer, author of the fantastic Sequential among many others) barks in monotone like a lifeguard's warning, and the guitars and bass follow suit, all layering onto one tone in lockstep rhythm. The song barely varies on the chorus, letting the notes reverberate for a few moments while the singer scrounges just enough melody to make up a hook. It's one of the more economical openers I've heard lately, and it certainly sets the tone for the rest of the record.

The International is a mix of familiar underground sounds with peculiar execution, cobbling songs together from loose, jagged shards of melody, suggesting and insinuating hooks rather than laying them out for the listener. From second track "Candor" on, Arks establish an unusual tension, with songs that never quite go the direction you'd expect. However, they often go from one obvious influence to the next without even so much as a segue, "Candor" among them. They've made some unusual choices there, too: Girls Against Boys are not a band you often hear referenced, nor do they get loads of accolades in hindsight. I'm pleased to hear them nodded to, in the surprise breakdown of "Candor" and many other places on The International. However, GvsB themselves hovered on the precipice of parody, and aping them is a tricky thing without sounding like an aspiring sleaze at best, and a charmless Nic Offer at worst. Hence the Jekyll/Hyde vocals of "Candor" sound more incongruous than they should, and the lounge-lizard verses to choked rants on the chorus of "Cars on Fire" is a little hard to take seriously.

The album's middle section is no less indebted, but a little more focused. The clean, single-note guitar parts nod to the sprawling peaks of the Cure's career, as does Hornschemeier's more insistent wail. Falling in these footsteps suits them better, as they take the time to develop a groove and a more noticeable, moodier atmosphere than the record's swaggering first third— the sparse stretch of "Customs" especially seems to fold restlessness of the title track into a careful tribute. Hornscheimer also lays back on that one, and he shows good instincts throughout when he doesn't have to lead the pack. He only mutters a few disdainful words over the verses in "Safe and Sound", knowing well enough to let the minimal horror-camp atmosphere take the foreground, and punching in on the chorus when needed. It's a shame that it's one of the few moments where the band picks up the slack melodically, as that and the squealing grind of "Silver" are easy standouts here.

The cumulative mood of the songs on The International seems to hint towards omnipresent, low-level paranoia, though primarily through snippets of lyrics and the ghostly reverb of the guitars. The vibe gets across, but mostly because the record feels claustrophobic and homogeneous. Though many of it's songs aren't much more than the sum of their influences, collectively, they have an odd, stilted swagger all their own. Arks' debut is still pretty derivative, but it sounds like they're learning the right lessons.
— Jason Crock