The most recent release from indie-electronica act the Remote Viewer's UK
label is more likely to waft
through lounges than one's bedroom. As on
all releases from
Moteer, there are softly shifting, acoustically strummed melodies, gently
sighing, syrupy female vocals
but here they are smothered in synths and scuttling clusters of reprocessed
sound that get the blood
flowing as much as they blanket the listener with a certain rainy-day
drowsiness.
"Sleepy Pea" is an almost innocent childlike jingle. A glockenspiel plays
descending glissandi while
shuffling drums are paired with a simple three-note trumpet motif and
wheezing
harmonium. "Lady Grey," a five-minute song led by lilting female
vocals, the silvery tones of
an organ and spindly, descending arcs of synth that give a plastic,
child-like
aura to the piece, takes a detour that harkens back to the more song-oriented constructions of Icelandic
group
Múm.
On each of the pieces, these elements are coordinated well enough; the
swooping, wah-wah guitar
patterns don't soar so high as to interrupt the warped psychedelic
sputtering
of the synths, and the
reverberating acoustic drones never muddy the rudimentary but peppy
percussion. Rather than sifting
through all of these well-worn '60s pop throwbacks like so many articles of
clothing in a thrift store,
though, one wishes the group would break up these compositions, throw a
mini-landslide of noise into
the mix something that might make them less ready-made and opaque. As it
is, each piece is
content to dwell in a temperate zone of overlapping harmonies and quaint
vocal
melodies, a sound that
could well act as background music for a hipster clothing store or even
one's
upcoming dinner party,
but little else.
|