Showing posts with label oceansize. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oceansize. Show all posts

Saturday, October 2

event - oceansize at koko, london

1st october
Playing a one-off support slot for Oceansize on their current European tour, Yndi Halda are an unexpected treat. Sadly though, time constraints mean that what was intended to be a swift two-song set is cut down without the band's
knowledge to a meagre one-and-a-half. By the standards of most this wouldn't be much stage time but Yndi Halda get around half an hour, managing to showcase what they're most widely praised for as well as giving a taste of what's to come. After a good stint in post-rock done to perfection where the band move in sinuous, tectonic synchronisation, they introduce a new song, which retains only some of these elements. There are vocals now, and acoustic guitar tapped at the harmonic intervals. It's still as spacious and complex as the first song, but it's more delicate, using subtler dynamics than changes in volume. It's a real shame to see it cut short, but the band promises to play a full set next time. Let's hold them to it.

Next up are This Town Needs Guns, and while they stay true to the math-rock sensibilities of fellow Oxford bands Youthmovies and Foals, they have all the technical abilities of the latter without the pomposity.
When playing tracks from 2008's Animals they do have the tendency to lose themselves in complex rhythms and self-regarding finger-tapping, but on new material they recover the crunch and the heart of their earlier sound, making whatever they release next something to look forward to. The announcement that they'll play old favourite 26 is Dancier than 4 is greeted with many cheers, and they go so much further than on the studio recording, Stuart Smith looking like the moment means everything to him, and moving his torso accordingly. Their ability to convey emotion alongside obvious proficiency is what marks them out from their peers, and they don't do it any better than when they're on stage.

Taking the stage at a slightly premature ten past eight, Oceansize waste no time introducing themselves and dive straight into Part Cardiac, the opener from recent full length Self Preserved While the Bodies Float Up, which you can read about here. It's intense, it's frightening and it's the only song they'll play that sounds at all like this. But that's what makes Oceansize such a fantastic live experience, constantly changing what they do over the course of their 90 minutes. They create huge swells of distortion, intricate three-part guitar patterns, and show they can do anything the two bands we've already seen tonight can do.

The loyalty among their fans is obvious, with practically every song getting a cheer in its opening moments, but the reception to their latest album is just as warm as for the old favourites like Ornament/The Last Wrongs. Singer Mike Vennart says the new one's their
best album and, maybe realising the faux pas he's just made, simply reaffirms what he's said. And for the first time in musical history he may actually be right. In any case, everything they play is a winner, and the only noticeable discernment among the audience is when someone shouts "play something heavy". They do, of course. Highlights include Paper Champion, which builds over funky bass riffs into a menacing climax, and the encore of Women Who Love Men Who Love Drugs, the mostly instrumental saga from their debut Effloresce. It's as this song ends that they depart for the last time, one by one, until three guitars remain, repeating lush, melancholic notes that gradually quieten as enormous cheers see them off stage.

Sunday, September 12

release - oceansize - self preserved while the bodies float up

released: 6th september 2010
type: album
label: superball music
genre: progressive rock, alternative rock, post-rock

Oceansize are one of those bands who seem to follow their instincts musically rather than any apparent external forces or trends. They've been constructing progressive and emotionally charged rock music since 1998, and still sound as fresh as they did then. This their fourth album, recorded in their own studio in Manchester is their shortest yet by some distance at 51 minutes. It's effectively their pop album, if Oceansize are capable of making one.

It's not a pop album. 2008's Frames didn't contain any songs under 6 minutes, and while only two reach that length here it's not because they've toned down the progressive side of their music. If anything, the extremes are more extreme. While SuperImposer is gentle and intricately melodic, with opener Part Cardiac they give us their take on doom metal, Mike Vennart slipping into the role with frightening ease.

The differences between these first two songs on the album do give a good idea of the variation to come though. There are furious, fast-paced ones like It's My Tail and I'll Chase It If I Want To with its long heavy intro and backing screams from Simon Neil of Biffy Clyro. There are also slower, mellow songs which make use of Oceansize's ability to craft complex two or even three-part melodies from trebly guitars, like A Penny's Weight, with its muffled drums and occasional scratchy, delayed guitar.

The two focal points of the album are the two longest songs, which unlike the majority Frames don't rely on repetition or long instrumental passages. Instead they blend different styles to create an impressionistic effect much like Women Who Love Men Who Love Drugs from their debut, Effloresce. Oscar Acceptance Speech recalls Mew's latest effort with higher vocals backed by more bassy ones as they come in for a second time halfway through the song. This leads into an extended, understated string outro, offering a brief moment of sparsity on the record. The other longer track on the album, Silent / Transparent, opens with jangly guitars and a warm vocal melody that for the attentive listener signals something brasher to come. A long-held note at around the fourth minute brings some delicately distorted riffing that then slows the pace of the song completely for a build of uplifting guitars and tapping drums that, unlike the outro of Oscar Acceptance Speech, only increases in size.
Pine is a slow-burner, taking from post-rock with its siren-like strings and Mogwai-esque murmuring and developing into an utterly mournful, bruising finish of complex drums, romantic violin and distortion. It's a beautiful song, and segues unexpectedly but not jarringly into closer SuperImposter, which starts with a jazzy rhythm and low-key vocals, taking care never to fully unleash itself. It keeps a certain level of restraint throughout, using the guitars to offer a different rhythm from the drums. It takes a while to settle in, but proves the band are using everything at their disposal here.
While it's an album that could clearly be cherry-picked for great singles, it's uncompromising, working well as a complete piece much like their other, much longer records. They're simultaneously fearless in writing catchy pop songs and in taking their sound further with every record, which is quite rare, and very much welcome. Having said that, it's definitely an album that rewards repeated, careful listens.