2008, #3: Kayo Dot - Blue Lambency Downward

Despite having finally decided upon it being my third favourite album of the year, I found this record hugely difficult to form an opinion on and it was a particularly conflicting thing for me. Kayo Dot are my favourite band, and after the absolute transcendence of previous outings Choirs of the Eye and Dowsing Anenome With Copper Tongue - which I cannot even begin to sum up in this introductory paragraph - they had a lot to live up to with their third full-length. Whether or not they did has been debated endlessly among their fans, and, so far, it seems that the general concensus is that the album is underwhelming in comparison to its predecessors, but here are my two cents on how this album is not only a great album in its own right but on how it is a necessary step in Kayo Dot's evolution.

Approaching this album is difficult. Kayo Dot have never been remotely describable as accessible, but unless you have a serious aversion to metal, this is probably their least user-friendly album to date. They have completely dispensed of their enormous celestial crescendos first demonstrated on Choirs and later honed to a finer, subtler art on Dowsing, which did, in a way, provide the listener with something to latch onto on the first few listens (such as the sudden saxophone solo over waves of distortion in 'The Manifold Curiosity') and have completely phased out the dark, heavy side of their sound which provided dynamic contrast and thus some of the most incredible moments in the first couple of albums. But quite honestly, where could they have gone from Dowsing Anenome With Copper Tongue, having exhausted the direction they were going in and in the process created one of the most mind-bogglingly complex and magnificent albums ever? Toby Driver, the classically-minded prodigy who composes all of Kayo Dot's music, has never been one to retread his footsteps, always seeking to explore new territory like a real composer should. Trying to recreate the extremity and grandeur of previous releases would have seemed contrived and fickle. Instead, Driver has turned his focus towards the more melodic side of Kayo Dot, pelting the group face-first into a hazy brand of avant-garde progressive rock that harks back to the Rock In Opposition movement of the 70s. This move may have been made easier by the departure of all the group's members except for multi-instrumentalist Driver and violinist Mia Matsumiya following their last album, and Driver's subsequent enlistment of contemporary prog musicians from bands like Time of Orchids and Behold... The Arctopus that similarly integrate modern compositional techniques into rock music.

The opening title track is a great example of this new sound. The song has a mid-section with hazy flutes, effects-laden guitar and meandering but clearly deliberate drums that progresses using repetition and subtle changes in a similar fashion to some of the buildups in Dowsing, but what stands out is that Toby Driver sings much more frequently than on previous releases, something that is applicable to the album as a whole. Where Driver would previously scream like a madman on tracks like 'Gemini Becoming The Tripod' his voice now never rises above a Jeff Buckley-esque falsetto. What sets this new melodic sound apart from some of the progressive rock releases that it evokes is the sense of very careful composition in the melodies that evokes the various modern masters of composition that Driver reportedly draws influence from, particularly noticeably, to these ears, Claude Debussy's chromaticism and unresolved cadences. Take, for example, 'The Useless Ladder', which finishes on an unresolved cadence: this would irritate and confuse some, but it actually works rather beautifully and effectively. The influence from modern classical music is as present as ever, it's just warped in typical Driver fashion to accomodate all his other ideas.

'Right Hand is the One I Want' incorporates a creepy kind of Eric Dolphy-style jazz, alternating between eerie piano/vocals and gorgeous woodwinds. Just when you think you've got it figured out, though, it heads off on a tangent into a lovely, ethereal midsection which is punctuated by a beautiful violin solo from Matsumiya. Five out of seven tracks on the album are under seven minutes long, something that is unusual for Kayo Dot who have become known for their sprawling 15-minute epics. The concise nature of the album makes it a satisfying listen because it never overstays its length. 'The Awkward Wind Wheel' is an interesting track in that it, over its chaotic three and a half minute duration, manages to match the ideas of pop and the avant-garde much in the same way that Time of Orchids do.

The best track on the album, and the one that seems to be closest to the ideas and sound of Dowsing Anenome With Copper Tongue, is closer 'Symmetrical Arizona'. The track progresses slowly and deliberately, with a gorgeous melodic progression first carried by the woodwinds, then by a surprisingly conventional (though sparse) guitar solo, and finally by Mia's violin, but always anchored by what sounds like a vibraphone (another idea that seems to hark back to Eric Dolphy). The tension eventually reaches a high point - and, for the first time on the album, the tension is resolved by a crashing drum fill which gives way to four minutes of all-out progressive rock bombast. The fact that prior to this point the album has been constantly building tension but then leaving it unresolved makes this release all the more surprising and effective, Toby Driver again subverting expectations. The most interesting bit of the final few minutes is the rhythmic groove which they slip into towards the end... jittery clarinets provide some beautiful ornamentation, but the whole thing builds only to fade out again. This whole theme of unresolved tension seems to be a statement of Toby Driver's, an act of rebellion against all the yawn-worthy "progressive" and "post-rock" groups in the scene who rely far too often on the crutch of "epic" build-and-release music which has now been done to death. While this may annoy some listeners, I find it to be an interesting change in the musical landscape that is far more satisfying than another album following the same formula.

I need to stress that Blue Lambency Downward is not a good place to get into Kayo Dot due to its awkward nature. Readers that have never listened to Kayo Dot, I implore you to get either Choirs of the Eye (probably the best place to start) or Dowsing Anenome With Copper Tongue (my personal favourite) and give them several listens to sink in. Like any other Kayo Dot record, the biggest virtue of Blue Lambency Downward for me is that even after tens upon tens of listens, I am still noticing details that I hadn't picked up on before, and it's this amount of buried detail and complexity that really makes Kayo Dot so rewarding and fascinating for me. If you're feeling brave, put some time into getting to know its nuances and see what the fuss is about for yourself, because nothing can describe Kayo Dot's music as well as the music itself.

Kayo Dot - Blue Lambency Downward

The Cold Return

As another hectic semester draws to an end I find myself with a little more time on my hands than usual. Or, rather, I'm decidedly ignoring the fact that i have two essays due and four exams to take after the Christmas holidays. I'll be taking this opportunity to get back to updating this blog hopefully a little more frequently, with plenty of music for you to feast your ears on, as well as providing the obligatory rundown of my favourite records from 2008. Watch this space.

The record I've been listening to the by far the most recently is Gospel's The Moon is a Dead World. Produced by Kurt "Midas Touch" Ballou of Converge, the record is, sadly, the only studio output the band have ever released. The band sound like what you would expect City of Caterpillar, perhaps, to sound like if they were closet Yes fans. In other words, Gospel play intense hardcore with massive prog leanings - insane drumming, psychedelic riffage, keyboard solos and nine-minute epics. This might sound absurd on paper, but The Moon is a Dead World is one of the most visceral, compelling and straight up awesome records ever to grace my ears. Its dense and dark racket will overwhelm on the first couple of listens, but every subsequent listen will reveal new nuances and amaze even more than the last time. Your ears will start to isolate awesome moments: be it the blinding riffage in 'Yr Electric Surge is Sweet', the superb melodic and dynamic changes of the epic 'A Golden Dawn', the stuttering rhythmic breakdown in 'And Redemption Fills The Emptiest of Hearts', the build and climax of 'What Means of Witchery' or the furious keyboards of 'As Far As You Can Throw Me'. Before long, you'll not only realise how tight and damn-near perfect this album is - you'll find that you're addicted to its propulsive dynamics and practically flawless instrumentation. In the realm of emo, The Moon Is a Dead World has little or no match in terms of how inventive and cohesive it is - fans of Circle Takes The Square and their ilk should probably download this. Right now.


I've also been listening to quite a lot of Harvey Milk. One of the more underrated bands in the field of sludge, it's suprising that, given their eccentric approach to the genre, more fans of bands such as Kayo Dot or Boris haven't picked up on them - or, rather, their early releases, which are particularly spectacular. They have admittedly received a bit of a buzz recently due to their most recent release Life... The Best Game in Town, touted by the likes of Pitchfork as a return to form. As entertaining as that album is, it seems to lack the extremity and astounding sense of experimentation that one finds in the band's early work, and thus comes off as comparatively lacklustre. My Love is Higher Than Your Assessment of What My Love Could Be, the band's debut, is a perfect place to start with Harvey Milk. The opening track 'A Small Turn of Human Kindness' throws you into experimental territory straight away: as an ominous cymbal counts the song in, one expects to be bombarded with sludge filth straight away. But Harvey Milk don't work that way: they choose, instead, to mess with their listeners' heads - playing around with keyboard noodling for a bit before reverting to cymbal counts, and then messing about a little more with some creepy strings. and then about three and a half minutes in, the real onslaught starts: one of the most vile, evil riffs you're ever likely to hear, backed by thunderous drums and horrible bass, rears its ungodly head. The band uses extended periods of (near-)silence, carefully controlled tempos and unconventional instrumentation (including the odd folk ballad) to contribute to the general disorienting effect of the album, along with the employment of a singer who could just as easily be a pissed-off walrus as be a human being. All of this leaves you wondering what you've just been hit by, but knowing one thing for sure: you've just heard one of the best experimental sludge albums you're ever likely to hear.

The follow-up to My Love..., the ironically titled Courtesy and Good Will Toward Men, dives into an even more serious - and sometimes surprisingly emotional - side of Harvey Milk's sound, while still retaining the experimental edge of their debut that makes the band so special and rewarding. One might argue that Courtesy is a bit more cohesive as an album than its predecessor, as it retains a constant feeling of utter gloom and misery throughout, while the predecessor tends to inject the band's bizarre sense of humour into tracks that otherwise might be more depressing, as well as having a few more particularly upbeat tracks among its numbers. The negativity of Courtesy and Good Will Toward Men is not necessarily to its detriment, but it certainly means that the album tends to lend itself a lot more towards moods where the listener is feeling a lot more, say, despondent. It has some disarmingly poignant moments: particularly the emotional climax of the album, a straightforward acoustic cover of Leonard Cohen's 'One of Us Cannot Be Wrong', a song that lends itself rather well to the singer's bizarre voice and is a surprisingly effecting respite in what is mostly a crushingly heavy sludge album. On an album full of highlights, one song to watch out for is the marvellously tense and evil opener 'Pinocchio's Example' which features - get this - a hoover. Yep, seriously. Also listen out for the interestingly structured and at times downright vile 'Sunshine (No Sun) Into the Sun', a great centrepiece - it starts with thirty seconds of a misleadingly charming ballad before propelling you straight into a black hole of downtuned bass and absurd guitar noise that lasts for the rest of the song. Nice. Courtesy and Good Will Toward Men may not be the most chirpy or upbeat of albums but it is certainly a powerful listen, and is one of the best sludge albums I've heard in a long time.


I'm also throwing in the new Glassjaw song as a bonus because, well, it fucking shreds.

Gospel - The Moon is a Dead World
Harvey Milk - My Love Is Higher Than Your Assessment Of What My Love Could Be
Harvey Milk - Courtesy and Good Will Toward Men
Glassjaw - You Think You're John (Fucking) Lennon