We Are Wolves move through their songs with a predatory intensity: stalking and waiting, panting in anticipation of blood-soaked snow and death-limped prey. Of all the "wolf" bands making news right now—from Wolf Eyes and Wolfmother to Wolf Colonel and Wolf Parade—WAW sound the most lupine, the band voted most likely to dress up in sheep's clothing and snuff your poor wooly soul.

The Montreal group's new record, Non-Stop Je Te Plie en Deux, is a dark, fanged, menacing piece of dance-punk. Beats and live drums pulse and groove beneath sly, throbbing bass lines and machine-gunning guitar while the singer howls under a distorted telephone effect. WAW's music is dead center in the smoky, green-laser-light-filtered goth club. And there you are, too, drunk and high as hell and cutting along the edge of the crowd while house beats ooonsk ooonsk up your brainpan and every foggy corner's taken up by some sketchy dude getting blown by his corpse bride.

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Now, that scenario's more articulated via aesthetics and vibe than where the band actually come from. Signed to Fat Possum (which, last time I checked, was a blues label), WAW are tightly wedged in indie rock's ever-splintering universe; industrial beats, electro keyboards, and Bauhausian guitar aside, they're more likely to show up in Skyscraper or your little sister's punk fanzine than at Anytown's dance club's fetish night. But that's neither here nor there. The important thing to know is that We Are Wolves are a good band and their bogeyman-nightmare jams are fun, danceable, and theatrically moody. Prepare to be hunted, you precious little lamb.

editor@thestranger.com

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