Mogwai
EP+6

There are two elements that lead me to consider Mogwai a great band.

First: if by chance, it's rare, you happen to hear them on the radio, or more often, paradoxically, on television (the writers of C.S.I. are quite enamored with them), even if you don't know the song, it will take just ten seconds for you to exclaim: "That's Mogwai!" (all Happy People at that moment, especially if you can brag about it to someone present, but the credit is theirs). They are therefore endowed with their own individuality, which seems quite significant nowadays.

Second: they are currently among the best at using the quiet/loud contrast. Which seems like a trifle, but in reality, it is not at all. As far as I can remember, except for Kurt Cobain's band, it hadn't been done so well since the '80s (Spaceman 3 and Dinosaur Jr., for example).

What are we talking about today? About a disc that contains three EPs recorded in the Scottish band's best days. The CD, released in 2000 in Japan, and the following year in Great Britain, indeed collects three tracks from the "Satin" EP of 1997, three from the "No Education = No Future (Fuck the Curfew)" EP of 1998, and four from the EP simply called "Mogwai" from 1999.

As for the first of the three works collected here, the first two tracks already seem superb to me: "Superheroes of Bmx" starts with a phone conversation, to which an electronic drum is added, then a Bontempi organ that just plays an A sharp and a D minor throughout the piece, then, slowly, some guitar and a synth come in, until everything explodes at the end. One of those classic Mogwai pieces for building up that could travel forever. The bass intro of "Now You're Taken" instills tranquility. It is also one of the rare sung tracks by Mogwai, featuring Aidan Moffat from fellow Scots Arab Strap on vocals for the first time (he will occasionally reappear in later works). I'm less convinced by "Stereodee," whose ten (!!!) thundering final minutes seem a bit superfluous to me.

"No Future..." consists of the long "mathematical" exercise, à la June of 44, of "Xmas Steps," enriched by a beautiful cello at the end; "Rollerball" is sweet melancholy, with the usual initial weave of bass and guitar and the drum's counterpoint, a piano that lulls you to infinity, ending there while you thought it would last forever; "Small Children in the Background": guitar feedback in the background with acoustic arpeggio in the foreground, a drum that seems distant (Where's the drummer? In the next room? I can't see, it's dark. What a lovely bit of reverb), and then the feedback covers everything, almost disappearing after thirty seconds, and immense is the adjective that comes to mind every time I reach the end of this piece, and instead of going to sleep, I listen to it once more.

"Mogwai Ep" enchants with four mild and dense nocturnes, only "Rage Man" is marred by feedback wash, a hypothetical soundtrack of a barefoot walk on the beach, under the stars. According to Stuart Braithwaite, leader of the Scots, however, these songs should be listened to: "In the bathroom or while making a U-turn on a devilish curve" (?!!).

Lovers of the Glasgow band will find in these ten tracks more reasons to probe the stars, lose themselves in the night, believe that nothing ends.