This Is Not TV

Though the album has been out for a couple of week’s now, this launch party has a second cause for celebration: surviving Bestival. I suppose you could call this a homecoming but… that term’s rather overused, dontcha think? Whatever. The audience is friendly, the bands climactic and the beer cheap – all is looking very good.

7 Hertz, for all those not in the know are/is a) collaborators with David Thomas Broughton, b) the frequency of the brown note and c) an experimental classical/jazz quartet. Comprising of upright bass, two violins (one could be a viola) and various wind instruments, their look is Pimms on the lawn but the sound is anarchic, disturbing, fluctuating from funereal be-bop to Purim jigs and whirls, form Charlie Parker to Bartok. Not an easy listen and tricky to get an angle on in the circumstances, but an interesting gateway to contemporary jazz and ‘classical’ music.

Brontide are a small package providing a small but perfectly formed packet of joy. Led by ex-I Was A Cub Scout William Bowerman from the rear… actually, forget IWACS, that will only distract you. William is the perfect rock drummer, playing the part and laying down some serious beats. Timothy Hancock and Nathan Fairweather are no slouches either, wowing with their twin tapping technique and providing the best of riffage throughout. Mathy, rocky and focussed, this is how you make catchy songs without words – like Battles meets Iron Maiden, but without cheesy lyrics.

Her Name Is Calla at The Brudenell can be… not so good, and with Tom’s under-amped vocals, I am worried that we are going to get the first lacklustre performance of the evening. Fortunately what Tom lacks in vocals at first is made up for in sheer fury by the rest of the band. As the sound warms, Tom’s voice shines through, a ray of darkness, as he bends almost double in pain and frustration. Sophie now adds vocals as well as trumpet to the mix, giving the set an emotional high register to Tom’s middle and Thom’s uncertain low. Before ‘New England’ closes an exhausting set, Tom expresses his gratitude to Vessels for being allowed to play. “ We thought they didn’t like us,” he says incredulously. No, but it’s hard to show enjoyment when your heart is being broken by such accomplished musical anguish.

When Vessels set starts, it is more by intimation than announcement. Slowly, the melody lines emerge, suffuse, bind and explode. Or, put another way, it’s an underplayed opening. No matter, ‘100 Miles…’ really sets things off, with Tim and Lee mirroring each other on the drums and Tom and Pete similarly mirroring each other on vocals – it is a masterful display of musical symmetry. Of course, that’s only half the fun of watching Vessels – the other is watching things fall apart spectacularly but somehow hang together. Watching Martin Teff immerse himself passionately in guitar while all band hell breaks out behind him is hilarious. The result of such chaos is worthwhile as the sound obtained by careful tweaking strikes your sternum and stops your heart… just enough to allow ‘Yuki’ to creep inside and warm it. ‘Happy Accident’ eases a smile across my face, which stretches to breaking point as Pete Wright name checks my moustache. Bless. Breaking tradition, ‘Two Words’ comes early, leaving the coveted closing spot for ‘Altered Beast,’ which roars with triumphant complexity. True, there are some slow spots and the overdubs to get a bit… overdubby at time, but you could not ask for a better evening of cerebral melodic entertainment. And I didn’t mention the genre once.

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Leeds’ Vessels are not ones to be hurried, rushed or pushed into something they’re not going be at least 98.6% happy with, so the album has been a long time coming. In factuality, its inception can be traced right back to their formation in 2005. Only now after three years of gathering, pruning and nurturing can this debut finally see the light of day. Of course, having the right place to record and the right producer to record it helped too.

In December 2007, all five Vessels (Tom Evans, Vocals/guitar, Martin Teff, guitar.bass, Lee Malcolm, guitar/synth/drums, Tim Mitchell, drums and Peter Wright, guitar/vox) got on a plane and flew out to Pachyderm studios outside Minneapolis (where ‘In Utero’ was recorded) and met up with Explosions In The Sky producer John Congleton. Ten days later, they had an album’s worth and after nearly a year of tweaking, it is finally ready. Worth the wait? Including the three years? I’ll say this: it certainly is a comprehensive piece.

As you may have inferred, ‘White Fields…’ is a bit of a ‘story so far’ with privileges, but has a touch of the symphonic too. ‘Altered Beast’, a reference to the coin-eating lycanthropic Sega arcade hit from the 80’s I hope, overtures the album. Tim Mitchell’s signature morse drums spiral and twist into math complexity as Tom, Pete, Lee and Martin string ditonic riffs and breathy synths over the top, a geometric Orb of sorts. Acting as a ‘Young Persons Introduction to the Ambient’, the track rolls on past Oldfield, through Glass, over Satriani before arriving at post-rock village, land of the long white crescendo. It’s a journey packed full of promise and you find yourself pressed against an imaginary window, gazing out at a rolling scenery of bizarre geological features and stunning vistas. There are of course many parallels to draw to 65days and Battles, but whereas the former veers into hard techno and the latter clinical krautrock, this takes the middle path into… harmony. And the rest of the album.

You could, if you wanted, divide the album into 3 parts: old, new and milestones. In the name of chronology and getting this review done, let us begin with the old. In the case of these tracks, ‘Happy Accident,’ ‘Walking Through Walls,’ and ‘Look At That Cloud,’ at a guess, there is a feeling of completion and closure more than anything else. ‘Look At That Cloud!’ stretches out slowly and gently, but meanders slowly from chord to chord like an exercise in post-rock. ‘Happy Accident’ showcases the classic flourish of slow build climax and fade in pure Godspeed style, complete with samples and the whole thing is telegraphed, literally, from the very start. ‘Walking Through Walls’ is more like an extended acoustic remix and lacks the distinctive holistic Vessels voice. Plus it never really starts. They all certainly benefit from the improved production, but there are better things on the album.

The milestones… okay, I’m making this up here, but I’m sure I’m onto something. ‘Wave Those Arms, Airmen’ sounds like a generic post-rock ramble from the start, but about halfway through does a musical backflip, lands on it’s feet and realises that it’s left mentor 65days in it’s dust. Dulcimers and glockenspiels blossom as to songs intersect, the old and the new splice and reform. It’s a beautiful thing. ‘Trois Fleures’ blends in a dash of distorted vocals, martial drums and industrial ugliness, a stylistic flexing of muscles if you will and ‘An Idle Brain’ just goes nutso with weighty riffs and African guitars before it crumbles, plateaus and returns as a folksier incarnation. I say milestones, because for me these are the points where Vessels find their voice through the corse of the song and shed the comparisons to Battles, Godspeed, 65days and all the stuff I’ve mentioned with impunity beforehand. Which brings me to what is, in my mind, the good stuff.

Curiously enough, it coincides with increased presence of Tom Evan’s warming, regional vocals that, along with Tim Mitchell’s pulsing rhythms, give the tracks heart and soul. ‘Yuki,’ a melancholic piano and masked electronic piece, is subtle and heartbreaking, the climax never quite rears it’s head, but then neither is it an anti-climax. ‘Two Words and A Gesture,’ twinkles along with rapid piano and glockenspiel runs and when the climax arrives it is sustained but strangely unresolved. The jewel in the crown is definitely ‘A Hundred Ways In Every Direction,’ with double tracked vocals, gearshifts, sustained climaxes, upward spiralling melodies and all five members playing with unbridled joy – a post-rock orgasmic chill that lasts way beyond the fade. I must admit that Tom’s lyrics verge on the completely nonsensical diatribal (“right away/it all becomes near”, “hold up/held down” – more like buzzwords really) but the sound they make, the shapes they make – that’s what matters here, rather than misjudged vocal cleverness. Less is definitely more.

Ten tracks weighing in at over five minutes each is certainly a big wedge of album and you can hear the quality and the love that has gone into this. So much love that the band are reluctant to shed some of their songs – it would have probably worked just as well with seven tracks. But Vessels are the giving kind, and this is a gift to their fans that will just keep giving. New comers may start to fidget during some of the tracks, but hang on in there; the best is yet to come. If the new tracks are any indication and if the next album can be a bit snappier, a tired old genre may have found a new, vibrant voice.

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