The demise of the music industry and the collapse of major-label dominance has led to the renaissance of the small label, and as such, the new era has seen a move away from mass-production to more artisan methods of manufacture. I've raved about the remarkable hand-crafted packaging of a few releases I've received to review in the past, and here's another. I could probably devote an entire review to the heavy-duty insert and what looks like a woodcut print that folds out in several stages that accompany this CD that comes in a fabric bag, stitched shut and that needs to be unpicked before I can examine, let alone play the contents. I shan't, but this attention to detail and the quality of the materials used goes the extra mile in building anticipation and in convincing the buyer (or, in my case, reviewer and receiver of freebies) that the product in their hand is something special.
Playing the actual disc only reinforces this assertion. Perhaps more accurately described as a collective or ensemble than a band, The Monroe Transfer have been keeping interesting company of late, and provide the orchestral elements on the last two releases by Her Name is Calla. I've probably raved about these records quite enough, but should perhaps say here that the lush and dramatic orchestral arrangements are significant in terms of the depth and dimensions they provide to the songs.
Small wonder, then, that this album is similarly dramatic and lush in its arrangement. And did I say epic? Yes, another feature common to both bands is a sense of the epic: of the six tracks, only two are under six minutes, and of the four lengthier tracks, one is sixteen minutes in duration and the other a whopping twenty-five. These aren't simply songs: they're movements.
|
They build, in both volume and tension, beginning as somber drones and almost subliminally evolving and developing into huge, uncontainable cathedrals of sound. Even without lyrics, 'Trials' carries a broad emotional range, with the colossal 'These are the Bright Stars (& This is How to Find Them)' being lugubrious at the outset and slowly, so slowly, blossoming to magnificence as the percussion builds and a squirming guitar adds layer upon layer of texture and depth, before swerving off at the midway point in an altogether different direction, fraught with tension and carefully constructed dynamics.
To place this album in any kind of genre bracket is virtually impossible: it may share features in common with post-rock but it ain't post-rock, just as it's too rock to be modern classical. There's just so much going on here, so many layers and so much carefully-arranged intensity. So, forget genre: 'majestic,' 'grand,' 'epic' 'accomplished' and 'outstanding' are amongst the words that best describe this album... and magnificent, too.
|
