The new project from Kenseth Thibideau (Tarentel, Rumah Sakit) and Marty Anderson is a fragile study in textural tranquilly.
The opening track, "Television," sets a beautiful tone with numerous acoustic guitars picking and turning into static-y bliss. Wendy Allen's (The Court & Spark) vocals enter the song about a minute in. Aside from some pretty "ooohhh"s and "aaahhh"s, it's a lyrically void track... but you'd understand how well that works upon listen. Some field recordings dissolve in a minute, later taking over and washing out the closing.
Track two, "Belief," swells in on a droned organ lead. More vocal cooing proceed, and we're at similar territory as the opening track, yet here it's an ethereal, almost churchlike procession feel for a total of two minutes and change. Good things + reasonable times = almost-immediate gratification.
"America" starts with a repeated guitar pattern as gorgeous orchestration swells the background. A few essential synth and vibraphone atmospheres lock around the guitars and are eventually accompanied by some Powerbook-driven noises. Anderson drops splattered vocals here in an out-of-breath, introspective manner, and everything cuts out when a synth tone correspondingly carries the second half of the song. The computers re-enter beside this synth tone, and I really think here they've brilliantly found O'Rourke terrain (the I'm Happy & Singing... laptop phase).
The closer, "Hello," breaks the ten-minute mark, and it's where Howard Hello flawlessly prove their patience. Although the minimal approach is maintained, a few new elements appear. What sounds like a flute follows another gentle acoustic guitar line, and other looped arrangements carry a good portion of the piece. Allen's voice is repeated and multi-tracked for the latter half, creating a closing ambiance that will make you want to start the record over.
In closing the album clocks in at seven tracks at thirty-six minutes. The mood and composure of this record are flat-out stunning. Howard Hello have reconstructed acoustic ambience, turning their self-titled record into a glowing opus of a quiet, delicate, and pastoral reverie.
|
