Wilderness
Wilderness

Here is yet another review of what is essentially a Post Rock album, lively but never overly so, easy to listen to, but nothing more.

I stumbled upon it while roaming the realms of P2P, and since it had been released only a few days prior (on July 5, 2005), I thought it was a good idea to present it to you.
The peculiarity of the band essentially lies in the singer's voice, which is a mixture between Johnny Lydon (Sex Pistols) and Paul Weller (Jam), with an orated street preacher style: it's a pity that the preacher is quite sloshed because you can't understand anything he says (or at least my knowledge of the language of Albion doesn't allow me to grasp almost any word).

The record opens with "Marginal Over", with a melody that, although circular, remains open, almost sunny.
Scattered reverberated guitar notes and bass introduce us to "Arkless", essentially a raga.
"It's all the same" vaguely remembers the beginning of "Given to Fly", a track by Pearl Jam, then it remains supported: better the Seattle group, anyway.
In the next "End of Freedom", we find a very evocative black-and-white atmosphere; I'd say it's the image of four friends looking at each other with tense faces saying "what should we do now?" with a refrain to shout at the top of your lungs while you're about to jump off a cliff.
In "Post Plethoric Rhetoric" (which deserves an award just for the title) from a drum carpet arises like a phoenix the heart-wrenching guitar melody (which honestly sounds like U2): everything goes on for eight minutes, constantly increasing in intensity, exploding, and calming down.
On an almost waltz-like tempo unfolds "Fly Further To See" which reminds me of the latter period Psychedelic Furs, where a blasting guitar accompanies the usual declamation the whole time.
In the instrumental "Shepherd In Sheeps Clothing", the instrument known as "sheep bleating" makes a brief appearance, in a disturbed and slightly inconclusive mix.
"Say Can You See" is a kind of anthem in which the counterpointed singing gives it an extra gear (here too, reminiscences of early U2): it's impressive how the same words pronounced by the "official" singer are incomprehensible, while those of the second voice are very clear.
A warped piano harmony is the essence of "Mirrored Palm", the most "different" track on the album, and it's also the one that closes it.

The main limitation of this work is the singer's voice: over time, that strangled declamation and half-octave vocal range become tiresome, rendering something that has good potential monotonous. At times it reminds me of a Neapolitan fish vendor (I know it's not an entirely accessible comparison, but just try to imagine it "miezz 'e vic"): "Jamm bell' jaaaaa, accattatv 'o peeeesc'!!! è friiiiisc!!!!!!".
When there is no singing, the band can be compared to Mogwai, but with more rhythm, without electronics, much simpler, guitar-bass-drums, with much shorter tracks.