Sadly the band are no longer around, but I still think of the record in the same fond terms now as I did when I wrote this at the end of 2000 for the OMP. Braving the Seabed - self-titled.
The long, anecdotal version: Let me tell you about my epiphany from the other night. I put on the new Braving the Seabed album on just before I was about to hit the sack, and whilst in that half-conscious sleepy state, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. With a single strum of the guitar and a single word uttered from vocalist/bassist Rob, I felt myself transplanted in Western Australia, feeling like I could start to understand the isolation and tyranny of distance that has long influenced the sound of Perth bands like Adam Said Galore and Bluetile Lounge. This was indeed a watershed moment, given that a) I've never been to WA before and b) a record’s essence has never hit me in such a dramatic way before.
In the same way their post-rock/slo-core brethren in the bustling metropolis of Melbourne and Sydney are defined by their location, it seems like Braving the Seabed have let their "Perth-ness" shine through. But instead of a frantic, intense edge that rests underneath the guise of a measured strum in the likes of Sea Life Park or 2 Litre Dolby, this is the sound of a much gentler, slower-moving epics untainted by the nervous energy of a dirty, crowded city. The sound is warmer, full with violas, vibraphones and slide guitars underpinning what could have been some rather stark songs. There are many things happening at once on the record, but you don't feel it because they're played with a wonderful calm and serenity. The arrangements may be deliberate, but it washes over you in an unhurried, ad hoc sort of way.
The album opens with one of its strongest tracks, Tonight Is For Sleeping. Summing up the philosophy of my entire year in a single line, Rob evocatively declares I'd rather be tired, than turn into someone who needs a life. Starting off which a kick, it's a brilliantly lazy song, with off-kilter rhythm to accompany the placid vocals that washes over you. Guitarist and violinist Kirsty continues the Braving spell in the following Walking Across Highrises and The Air Between, mesmerizing with her muted, tender musings that ebb and flow with the softly-softly hum of the vibraphone and brushes. But it's Rob vocals that jerks you back to life, hovering just above twang of the slide guitar, the subdued march-like beat and the melancholic viola on the noodly A Perfect Silence. This was THE song. Y'know. It's the heart-tugging, stomach-gripping, eyes-welling stuff that the best songs are made of.
The band come full circle on the album, closing with the tremendous 9 minute epic, Nervous / Being Made Out. Dual by name, and a duel by nature, here Kirsty and Rob compete for your attention telling you 9 times out of 10, it's just that I'm nervous, over a distorted fuzz battling with an acoustic guitar. Eventually around the 8 minute mark, Nervous becomes Being Made Out and comes back into the fold, resplendent with strings and vibraphone. Brilliant stuff.
Forgive me if I sound like a wanker and for the extraneous use of adjectives, but dammit, this is an amazing album, and ever since that pivotal moment, I haven’t been able to tear myself away from it. It's a quietly persuasive and incredibly classy effort from the band, released locally on their own label Real Amber and on SunSeaSky in the US. And like I said, I think I'm finally beginning to see the Perth light. Do yourself a favour and go out and buy this album NOW. You can thank me later.
No comments:
Post a Comment