| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Product Details
Would you like to update product info or give feedback on images? |
| 1. Hands |
| 2. She Moves She |
| 3. First Thing |
| 4. My Angel Rocks Back and Forth |
| 5. Spirit Fingers |
| 6. Unspoken |
| 7. Chia |
| 8. As Serious As Your Life |
| 9. And They All Look Broken Hearted |
| 10. Slow Jam |
Permanent Ink -- From URB Magazine
"Hands" opens the record with an ascending two-chord progression played by
lightly picked guitar and organ while the drums warm up to a slow but loose
rhythm which seems to wander around the Zildjian section of a music shop,
delighting in everything they find. The familiar atmosphere is here, but
somehow there's a greater sense of urgency as the track builds on a slow
crescendo but never quite releases. It's a powerful opener, evoking a sense of
wide, open spaces, similar in tone to Mum's "Green Grass of Tunnel."
"She Moves She" is the first single, and the first time I heard it, I didn't
care much for it, but hearing it context makes much more sense. It opens with
a limber drum track overlaid with an absent-minded dobro that wouldn't sound
out of place on a Ben Harper record somewhere. In the chorus (of sorts), a
distorted acoustic guitar sample stabs into the mix in a staccato patter just
coherent enough to imply chord changes. It sounds like Fennesz, except more
focused and driven. The verses are carried by a glockenspiel which manages not
to sound the least bit fey, and toward the end, the whole ensemble is filtered
down to single notes on the offbeat, and the track leans toward a two-step feel
similar to "Untangle."
"My Angel Rocks" rides an echoing loop of static and rimshots that sounds like
something off Arovane's excellent Tides while a fragile lullaby plays on a
harp. Yes, a harp. In anyone else's hands, that would send this straight into
the eight circle of Windham Hill perdition, but before it can get cloying, a
back-masked guitar fades into the middle register and turns the whole thing
into an almost heart-wrenching chorale.
It's worth mentioning at this point that several times on this album, I've
actually caught myself holding my breath. No, really. It's that good.
"Spirit Fingers" comes through like a whirling dervish, propelled by a
double-speed guitar part that wouldn't sound out of place on a Takemura record,
especially when it's overlaid with a frantic gamelan pattern. Just when the
track starts to sound like an anomaly, a slowly picked acoustic guitar pulls
the reins back. Not really a standout track, but by no means bad, either.
"Unspoken" lopes along like a Dj Shadow tune with guitar feedback floating over
the mix. The piano part enters, and after about a minute, you realize that the
melody is from Tori Amos' "Winter." With tamborines. This is where
description falls short, because as awful as that may sound on paper, the whole
thing actually works. It's remniscient of µ-ziq's appropriation of "Your
Ghost", except where that track simply used the original as an adornment, Four
Tet uses it as a single motif among many. After the first verse, the piano
part is replaced by a jazz progression with trumpets and cello, and when it
reappears, it's bolstered by a larger and different arrangement. I was really
surprised by the mastery of structure and development here, since the track as
a whole takes over nine minutes and never once lost my interest.
"As Serious as Your Life" sounds like like something out of some forgotten
'70's police show, and while it's hardly the most substantial thing here, it's
certainly clever and alot of fun in the same way "Everything's Allright" was on
the last record.
"And They All Look Broken Hearted" reminds me of a more relaxed Amon Tobin,
with a nimble drum kit buoyed by a slow bassline. The whole thing boils away
at a slow tempo, never really picking up, but never letting down either. This
is mostly a track about atmosphere, and it works well in that respect.
"Slow Jam" is the closer, and it may be the best thing Hebden's ever done.
Ringing guitars enter over a slow beat, and I'm reminded of every rock song
that ever rode itself out on a slow, glorious three-minute coda. The guitars
and strings ride an aching chord progression that builds and recedes in a
series of subtle climaxes while scattered vocal samples ricochet through the
mix. There's almost a melody in vocals, but it never quite coalesces, which is
fine, because this is more about stroke and gesture than anything literal.
Some part of me wants the voices to come in, but I know that, if they did, the
whole delicate illusion would be ruined. The track feels like like the credits
music for some alternate-universe John Hughes movie, and it doesn't matter that
it doesn't really go anywhere, because you're just happy to be held, suspended,
while the landscape drops away below.
Absolutely essential.
A very pleasant suprise, and one of the
more captivating CD's I've listened to
of late. I saw the deal amazon.com has, this
and prefuse 73's One Word Extinguisher.
If that deal is still on and you don't
have either of these CD's, do your ears
a favor and order them.
Excellent.
