The New Pornographers’ ‘Twin Cinema’ Is Still Captivating 20 Years Later

The New Pornographers took their power pop to another level on Twin Cinema, with Carl Newman’s impeccable songwriting and all three vocalists dialed in.

Twin Cinema The New Pornographers Matador 23 August 2025

A largely philosophical question exists when it comes to supergroups. When can a supergroup shed that cumbersome designation and just be considered a band? Based upon the concept alone, the quite obvious explanation is never. However, the New Pornographers make an interesting case, seeing as how they are considered a supergroup based mainly upon what happened in the wake of their formation.  

Most listeners automatically attribute supergroup status to the band based upon participation from the big three: bandleader Carl (A.C.) Newman (vocals, guitar), Neko Case (vocals), and Dan Bejar (vocals, guitar). True, at different times in their career, Case and Bejar’s project Destroyer were bigger draws than the unifying collective of Vancouver artists.

However, at the time of the New Pornographers‘ formation, neither Case nor Destroyer was a household name. I venture to guess that the vast majority of indie rock enthusiasts are unaware of Carl Newman’s previous power-pop outfit, Zumpano, or Limblifter, the group featuring lead guitarist Todd Fancey and drummer Kurt Dahle. By those standards, Pearl Jam were a supergroup, as are many acts that emerged from a fertile local scene.    

Putting semantics aside, Twin Cinema might have been the exact point when New Pornographers became more than the sum of its parts. Most of the members had other projects and would come together periodically to record an album and tour (with all members, if you were fortunate), but this was a massive statement from a band that had already achieved tremendous critical success. Twin Cinema brought their updated take on power pop to the masses, featuring infectious hooks, overflowing energy, and an unmatched set of songs that complement each other while dazzling independently.  

On Twin Cinema, the New Pornographers sounded more confident, likely a result of their growing comfort with one another. It didn’t hurt that they had already won a Juno Award for Mass Romantic (2000), not to mention that Electric Version (2003) was equally well-received. Here, the band brim with collective energy, showcasing a cohort of musicians that had reached its high point. The record rolled out one banger after another, especially on Side A, which features the iconic “Use It”, the Case-fronted “The Bones of an Idol”, eventual show closer “The Bleeding Heart Show”, Bejar’s “Jackie, Dressed in Cobras”, and the John Collins (bass)-penned “The Jessica Numbers”.     

For a group with three lead vocalists, the tracks all feel part of a whole. There is no denying that Newman and Case give New Pornographers their signature sound, especially now that Bejar has effectively departed. However, this combination was nowhere more evident than on “The Bleeding Heart Show”, a track that incorporated backing vocals from the entire ensemble for the irresistible “whoo”s and “hey-la”s. As expected, Twin Cinema features prominent guitar parts and hammering drums, but it also includes bells, accordion, mandolin, cello, synthesizer, and other instruments that lend a certain air of sophistication.   

In terms of presence, Bejar had always been the outlier, not only due to his unusual vocal style but also his lyrical content. On subsequent releases, he came to be regarded as nothing more than a guest contributor, which makes sense in retrospect. Even considering his abstract insights (“Who was I to come between the whore and her money?”; “This whiskey priest, he burned the church / To keep his girls alive”), for once, Bejar feels like an essential part of the team. The New Pornographers had become entwined in a way that they arguably have never been since, and that communal spirit is electrifying.   

By the mid-2000s, indie rock artists, particularly those on Matador, had become an established institution. Twin Cinema succeeded in part due to impeccable timing, but it really stands above their other work thanks to the sheer quality of Newman’s songwriting. His use of tempo encourages listeners to get out of their seats and start moving (“Use It”), lock into a groove (“These Are the Fables”), or just sway along (“Falling Through Your Clothes”).

Even the lyrics are poignant, which isn’t typical in the world of power pop. Just consider these clever insights: “Two sips from the cup of human kindness / And I’m shitfaced, just laid to waste” (“Use It”) and “Do we see what the clock makes you do / But I won’t let this happen to you” (“Sing Me Spanish Techno”). 

Twin Cinema was well-received at the time, earning a second spot on PopMatters‘ Top-50 year-end list, ahead of the likes of Sleater-Kinney‘s The Woods, the Mountain Goats‘ The Sunset Tree, and Silver Jews‘ Tanglewood Numbers (alongside a half-dozen other classics). Yet, it never lost its allure. It continues to pay dividends for those still captivated by other tracks beyond those that had gained universal appeal (“Use It”, “The Bleeding Heart Show”, and “Sing Me Spanish Techno”). I can’t tell you how many times I’ve listened to “The Jessica Numbers”, “Three or Four”, and “Stacked Crooked”, and one can only expect other fans to make a case for their own darlings. 

Twin Cinema was the New Pornographers’ defining moment, just before Case and Bejar’s commitments really got in the way, and when Newman’s complicated relationship with alcohol made for entertaining music and not a serious discussion. It seemed like Dahle, their longtime drummer, would be in place forever (sadly, his replacement, Joe Seiders, faced child pornography charges and was summarily removed).

There was never a thought that they would become marketing fodder for a for-profit institution (yes, “The Bleeding Heart Show” was featured in a University of Phoenix commercial). In a year that arguably ranks among the best in indie rock, the New Pornographers’ Twin Cinema was a spirited endeavor that made a splash because it was flawlessly executed, inextricably linked to its time but no less captivating today.