Scotland-based George Francis favors guitar and piano to "touch the deepest parts of the soul." And while that might tickle, it certainly informs our posture when enjoying the "soaring melodies and lush multi-layered harmonies" that wash about in his debut LP, Year of the Dog. Francis also seems to revel in studio mastery. Thus, what one may assume is stripped down to its most essential bolts is actually inflated via reverbs, delays and panning methods; not to mention an always appreciated brass section. The final product, however, is less a Frankenstein monster than it is a cohesive whole, entirely unmurderous and spread across 12 tracks.
The sonic blueprint here is familiar, if not redundant, in the way that a conditioned hamster might run the same wheel each night. And yet, we’re hardly noshing on comfort food. Rather, this is a raw-boned, multi-tracked journey with invariable landscapes. The more we dart, the less things change, as if by preserving speed, this mongrel of a year might snap into aural focus. “On The Hill,” the opening cut, is a stark, sharp metered introduction to all that follows. Shifting into “Ancient Sadness,” double-tracked vocals trade on the burgeoning psychedelia of mid-to-late 1960’s London; persisting in that narrow band where the Walker Brothers ceded influence to Lennon/McCartney. The overall vibe is trance-inducing, a thematic bit of production whimsy that Francis uses to agreeable effect. In that same vein, “Cardboard Cathedral” slinks serpentine through an undressed version of Herb Alpert’s Tijuana Brass. Although the white knuckled horns ebb and flow with the tension, they do so in full respect. Both “Caterpillar” and “Fools” offer very present bass lines, bobbing above the water in apposition to dirge-like harmonics. Likewise, “Intruder In the Past” is a faithful slice of Donovan, if not an amusing tune in the way that Francis maintains total composure, even when warning of prowlers. Such is the ethos of a crumpet-hardened Greater Britain. After rolling into “The Fly,” the album’s closing song, exhaustion is evident. This is, after all, five minutes of operatic necrosis, scored to beautifully dramatic piano and wrapped in heavy velvet. Francis stays true to form in composing Year of the Dog, which certainly scores a merit badge for integrity. Yet, for all of his devotion to structure comes a fatiguing slow-burn; the reality that we’re cornering a tight lane with cheerless give. Is this the perfect cure for mania or a howl down the garden well? Either way, it’s an original piece of art, both hauntingly stark and unbearably heavy.
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
Critique/insightWe are dedicated to informing the public about the different types of independent music that is available for your listening pleasure as well as giving the artist a professional critique from a seasoned music geek. We critique a wide variety of niche genres like experimental, IDM, electronic, ambient, shoegaze and much more.
Are you one of our faithful visitors who enjoys our website? Like us on Facebook
Archives
April 2024
|