The first half of Wechsel Garland's third full-length is a soothingly warm
collection of measured songs
soaked in springy xylophone melodies, splintered guitar harmonics and
majestic, hazy pads. This is very much an ode to rudderless summer
days, afternoons spent
sauntering through parks, nights when stars would sleepwalk across the sky.
During such moments,
idleness becomes a most charming virtue, and these songs can be seen as an
attempt to encourage
people to let go of themselves for the sake of the moment.
Arrangements are simple and unsophisticated, but the music is nevertheless
built of a gentle balance
between composure and release. On album opener "Walker," brittle percussion
shots are wrapped
around gentle guitar harmonics and the soft hum of an organ heats the track
from the inside.
Garland's voice is deep and slightly raspy, and though by no means distinctive
or even affecting, his
lyrics are often sharp and insightful — on the aforementioned "Walker," for
instance, against a
buzzing synth drone, he muses "Your history has no intention/ To last more
than one day/ We know
each other only briefly/ So don't smile on me too friendlily/ I'll definitely
tell you later/ I can't protect
your burning shelters." "Stones" is similarly peopled by glassy chimes
floating across fingerpicked
guitar and wet, throbbing basslines as Garland whispers, "It's clear what will
come/ It comes crawling/
The time has come to realize there will be nobody to set you free from your
own troubles/ The creature's
all so wild/ But its blunt teeth reveals/ It's already on its knees."
Instrumental pieces are also sprinkled into the mix, allowing Garland to more
fully develop his
propensity for effulgent, pinprick arpeggios and mantric synthscapes. For
many of these pieces,
though, every speck of space seems packed with such an array of sounds — from
bucolic chirrups and
skipping piano lines to vivacious cello motifs and reverb-drenched beats —
that many will feel a desire
to take a step back. And though the second half of the album is no less busy,
it is noticeably more
relaxed. Tracks such as "Corona Loco (Look at Me)" adopt a dark, somewhat
sinister expression, as dub
basslines push around rolling drums and a taut, plucked guitar. These darker
lines become sharper
with the next few tracks, as one gets the sense that summer is drawing to an
unwelcome, if long-expected, close — but, be that as it may, the odd trombone
flourish and woozy
electronic wash reminds us
that it was not without its moments.
|
