As this album begins it channels the spirit of electronic music wizard Burial – using spoken word and ambient noise to haunting, disconcerting effect. As the eerie vocal comes in, it quickly becomes clear that this is not going in the direction that a Burial song would’ve. Instead it sounds a bit like a subdued, sedated Suicide or maybe something that Brian Eno might come up with as part of one of his many collaborations. However, this is the work of one person – Nottingham’s Callum Folds. “Faith Saves You” is an absolutely luscious piece and an example of experimental audio at its finest.
As the second song begins, some rapid fire electronic percussion is introduced and is paired with a more traditional steady backbone of a beat. This is built upon with layer upon layer of synth sounds and a rich, tactile assortment of textures develop without you really realising it. “The Southern Sea” is sinister sounding and somewhat insidious in the way it unnervingly creeps up you.
The start of “The Masculine Is Destruction” reminds me of moments of some of the instrumentation on Yesh Yoko’s recent EP “六” – specifically the track Dark Swarm. As with the songs that preceded it, this is eerie and a bit creepy – but this time with a bit of a slickness to it that hasn’t been present so far. The album is evolving before you, blooming as you listen, getting more experimental and ambitious with each passing minute. This song, for example, eventually incorporates an almost jungle-like beat accompanied by post-dubstep squelches and bone-rattling bass – taking on new life as it comes to its end.
This is followed by “Headless Cross”, which begins and sounds like the sunniest song on the album by far, thus far. With a decidedly late 80’s/early 90’s tonal palette this evokes feelings of the golden age of club/dance music and the haze that surely came along with nights enjoying said tunes. It’s got a rather strong Hot Chip energy about it. Eventually the song spirals and at around two thirds of the way through it drops and shapeshifts into what can only be described as a banger. This gives way to “Boy With A Bird Climbing His Arm” which is a much more abstract and wobbly sounding piece of work. The catchiness of the previous tune jettisoned in favour of something much weirder. It’s an arty, ambitious, assault on the senses that makes you feel like you never quite know what to expect from it.
“Nothing” is up next and starts with an almost music box-style cutesy naivety blended with a bit of Apex Twin-esque glitchy synths. These are soon paired with a “banging donk” and we’re back in clubland. We imagine this is probably best enjoyed whilst tripping off your tits but can also be appreciated whilst stone cold sober. To be fair, we reckon we could actually get pretty drunk on these beats.
The next song takes the pace down considerably and we’re back in Eno territory. “Everywhere” is a laid back, atmospheric daydream of a song that gives off strong Digital Ash In A Digital Urn vibes, at about midway through. This is a relatively traditionally structured track – which is uncommon for the songs here – and feels like somewhat of a centerpiece of the album – a safe, serene space, in amongst all the audible adventure. That is until about the last fifth of the song when a crazy transformers-esque sound is brought in and threatens to eat you from the inside out.
Up next is the title track which starts rather hauntingly – it makes me think of what a modernised experimental electronic version of what Meat Is Murder by The Smiths might sound like. Quite quickly though another banging beat is brought into play and the mood is lifted. The electronic drums are persistent and demand your attention. The airy synth background is understated – it’s all about the percussion and it’ll have you tapping your foot and nodding your head. As the song progresses it gets creepier. It sounds a bit like what you imagine HEALTH would sound like if they covered The Cure and had Jim Reid on vocals.
“Bedroom Floor” starts deceptively; wistfully and whimsically. Soon, Callum sings “I decided to not take care of myself anymore” and all of a sudden the previously light sounding music sounds like it mirrors that level of disenchantment, disconnect and depression, despite it not changing much sonically – such is the power of the lyric here. The song now feels sombre and sludgy as it takes you down with it on a journey that some don’t come back from. It concludes with a nice bit of acoustic guitar which is a pleasant palette cleanser before it wraps up.
The album concludes with “The Bird Did Not Hang Back” and it finishes how it began. Bold, brave and beguiling, this song encapsulates the spirit of the album as a whole. It blends atmospherics with wry thinking-out-loud/heart-on-sleeve lyricism (“shall we have a baby and ruin our happy lives?”), infectious beats and careful crafted sonic soundscapes to make something rather unique and utterly engaging.
Written by Kinda Grizzly
