The music of this Leeds-based duo, consisting of
brothers Chris and Richard Adams, is a meeting of a
rather studied indie fragility with plaintive acoustic
songs and sometimes strident electronica. Evolving
from shambolic, occasionally charming lo-fi origins,
Hood's current sound retains its individuality and air
of slightly rough invention, but showcases the Adams
brothers' talents as composers and arrangers willing
to take chances with their material. While they
present a pretty much integrated acoustic-electronic
interface, they also drop in unexpected juxtapositions,
contrasting the precision of
sampled, looped beats with a more fluid,
impressionistic flow of lyrics and melodies. There is
a sense, then, of not quite knowing what to expect,
even as Hood imprint their identity indelibly on these
songs.
As the brothers' voices wander into a gentle harmony
on the opening track, "The Negative," the music's
vaguely unsettling combination of languor and tension
begins to work up a naggingly insistent momentum. And
where more obviously hip-hop-derived beats are
employed on "Any Hopeful Thoughts Arrive," they're
soon offset by the gently drawled lyrics and the
introduction of brass and strings, leading to a fully
fledged chamber-pop climax. The percussive handclaps
introduced into the delicate, cascading acoustic
melody of "End of One Train Working" seem at first
jarring and inappropriate, but they perfectly
illustrate Hood's subtly daring approach to their
songs, building them into solid bodies of work but
retaining a warm fuzziness and gentle tension at their
heart. "Winter 72," for instance, is pared back to
not much more than voice and percussion, lending an
organic, dub flavor to its haunted romanticism, but
retaining its structure as a song in its own right.
The lyrics, usually addressed to someone rather than
being first-person narratives, come across as
deliberately rough sketches, fleetingly
impressionistic, but perfectly suited to the music's
enigmatic blend of opacity and momentum. It's a sound
that doesn't loudly proclaim itself, but nevertheless
insinuates its way in, until it feels quietly
indispensable.
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