Toshack Highway vs. Sianspheric - Magnetic Morning/Aspirin Age
(Sonic Unyon)
More split releases should be like this. What was initially supposed to be a single split between Toshack Highway, aka Adam Franklin from Swervedriver's semi-solo thing, and Sianspheric, Canada's most well-established exporter of shoegaze friendly fun to other realms, turned into a two CD effort. It's not two full albums, more two separate EPs, and the packaging and art handles it all with sly wit (no, really).
Away from Swervedriver's amp-burning burn-down-the-road approach, Franklin uses a combination of his nicely world-weary-but-not-dispassionate voice and enjoyable enough low-key rock energy to shape his efforts—it's like he keeps the propulsion at points from his main band but chucks away a fair amount of the pedals. Returning to the lineup featured on the first album (as compared to the all solo Rock'n'Roll Is Saving My Life) was also a good move, with Jeff Townsin's drums in particular being a secret weapon. Those who felt his earlier albums weren't as cool as they should be might want to give this an ear, as he seems to have found just the right balance now. "The Streets That Spin Off" is a fine starter, while "(She's Got) Celestial Navigation" also lives up to the general promise. "Country Grass," meanwhile, is the winner on the calmer and slower side of things, a gentle backporch rumination.
Sianspheric also goes a bit more acoustic on its disc—the press guff says apparently both bands wanted to invoke T. Rex and John Fahey to some extent—but that's mostly the opening song "Song For," after which the gentle aspect of sweet, shimmering drift that has defined so much of the band's work comes to the fore. Now that Sianspheric have in some ways run the gamut—formerly followers of a trend that due to persistence and time are on the cusp of its continued influence—hearing songs like "Beneath the Ocean Floor," with its muffled drums and floating reverb is almost like vindication. Not that there isn't rock—if anything, "This All Happened" is amusingly enough Sianspheric's tribute to early Swervedriver itself, squalling, snarling solos and plenty of noise on the various breaks (even if the singing tends towards the more restrained). "No Space," meanwhile, finds the secret trick that sometimes blissout is best done through minimalism, quiet drums and gentle singing backing dreamy but not layered guitars, softly moving along in the softest of early Verve ways.
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