Look, I call it like it is. I can ‘do’ ‘art’. I ‘get’ conceptual’. But I know pretentious guff when I hear it, too, and I’m not so much of an art phag as to sing the praises of something wanky for fear of being exposed as an ignoramus. this collaboration between Henry Vega and Anat Spiegel, well, frankly, it’s just so much pretentious twaddle it’s painful. Over a minimalist backdrop, Spiegel warbles, croons and trills endless vocal complexities.
The musical elements are fairly engaging: it’s the vocal accompaniments that really kill ‘Wormsongs’; from babbled, garbled liturgies to wailing eulogies spoken in tongues, everything it pitched a notch or two above the top, and the result is an uncomfortable listen. Again, I can handle ‘challenging’; I fact, I yearn for it, actively seek out music that will test me. But this, this is always a step too far, delivered with a contrived-sounding precocity that simply doesn’t sit well. Bottom line: utter guff.
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