Rating: 9.0
After wowing progressive rock listeners with both their perfect (literally) debut Choirs of the Eye and their almost as good follow-up, Dowsing Anemone With Copper Tongue, Kayo Dot have returned with an EP split with doom metal band Bloody Panda. I am not familiar enough with the Bloody Panda material to review it (though I would recommend checking out their debut full length, Pheromone, as it’s quite good). Thus, I will restrict this review just to the Kayo Dot half, the song “Don’t Touch Dead Animals.”
“Don’t Touch Dead Animals” is split into two parts, each introduced with a short spoken poem by violinist Mia Matsumiya (who is featured on vocals because Bloody Panda also have a female Japanese vocalist). The track marks somewhat of a shift in sound for Toby Driver and co, but it is still recognizable as distinctly Kayo Dot, holding true to Driver’s compositional style and disdain for traditional song structures.
In some sense, this song is a mixture of Choirs and Dowsing; the first part is jazzy in a similar manner to “Aura on an Asylum Wall” from the latter, and the second utilizes heaviness similar to “Marathon” from the former. In the first part, a powerful trumpet duals with dissonant, swirling violin, building up to a semi-climax, then fading away in a seeming anti-climax. Then, however, Mia begins her monologue that opens part two, and the song fairly immediately climaxes with some awesome crazed vocals from Mia and more fantastic trumpet work, as well as some heavy guitar riffing. This relieves the tension of the anti-climax wonderfully, bringing the track to a powerful resolution.
But how does it mark a compositional change for Kayo Dot? Well, the song is far less minimalist than either of their other CDs. For the first time (in a Kayo Dot song), there is a lot happening that all exists in or near the song’s foreground. Sure, on their two full lengths there was generally a lot happening, but it was done in a subtler manner. Here, on the other hand, it is more obvious (though still fairly subtle). While both good on the whole, both the semi-climax and the full climax are simply too full at times, and it’s impossible to comprehend everything at once. That is the one major flaw with this song. However, if Driver can take this style of composing and perfect his technique, he should be able to deliver a third masterpiece.
Showing posts with label Kayo Dot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kayo Dot. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Kayo Dot - Choirs of the Eye (2003)
Rating: 10.0
Music is very much a subjective term, as I have learned "the hard way." Because of my liking of bands who live on the often-tedious fringe between music and noise, I have often been confronted by those to object to my "non-music." Even for a band as inherently musical (not to mention supremely important) as This Heat, I have been requested (ordered, more like) to "turn off this, this... NOISE," the last word spat out with a venom more suited for a murderer or a terrorist. I can only imagine the reaction I would get if I were to play music more along the lines of Merzbow or, as is pertinent to this review, Kayo Dot.
Kayo Dot, spearheaded by Toby Driver, is one of those bands on the fringe I mentioned above, but not of the same sort as most. Rather than an uncompromising, noisy, perhaps even ugly sound, Kayo Dot's music is, quite distinctly, beautiful. Sometimes, this beauty is obvious, such as at the start of "The Manifold Curiosity," where a delicate melody (played on some woodwind) is backed by a hesitant drumbeat and slightly distorted guitar. Similarly, "A Pitcher of Summer" starts with clearly beautiful, acoustic guitar based music. Other times, however, the beauty is not so obvious. The beginning of the opening "Marathon" is noisy and chaotic, holding a disguised beauty that only becomes apparent after repeated listens, when the album finally starts to make sense.
That, in a nutshell, encapsulates the utter brilliance of Kayo Dot's debut, Choirs of the Eye. It is beautiful from start to finish, and it takes time to appreciate. Make no mistake about the latter, especially. I had Choirs of the Eye for at least six months before I finally "got" it. I could put this down to its outright inaccessibility, but I think there's more to it than that. After all, I am no stranger to music that is "out there," and even the most difficult CDs rarely take more than a month to grow on me. No, what took me so long to appreciate Choirs of the Eye is its subtlety. At every moment there are little things that add the perfect touch to the music, making the atmosphere at that moment just right. The way that these elements affect the music are not readily apparent, and thus the CD is not immediately striking. Take, for example, the hesitant drums on "The Manifold Curiosity," the monologue that begins "Marathon," and the entire section of "Wayfarer" that begins around 6:30. The first two seem almost like afterthoughts at first, only starting to make sense after multiple listens. While both of those augment more obvious aspects of the music around them, however, the section in "Wayfarer" is notable in that it is composed almost entirely of subtleties. The quiet strumming, the slow, steady drums, the barely audible sound effects - all are insignificant taken alone, and indeed the entire section seems insignificant at first, but once you realize how each element fits with the others, it becomes one of the most powerful parts of the album.
So it is with the rest of the CD. Even when the music is beating you senselessly over the head (such as on the end of "The Manifold Curiosity"), there is more happening than first meets the ear. Even now, after countless listens, I find new subtleties each listen. You want to know the only other CD I can really say that about? CAN's Tago Mago, which just happens to be my favorite CD. Kayo Dot's Choirs of the Eye reaches a similarly high level because of it's command of subtlety. That is the triumph of Choirs of the Eye and the key reason I regard Toby Driver as a modern musical genius (in the company of John Zorn, among others). So, in case any of you haven't realized this yet, Choirs of the Eye is most definitely music. Some of the greatest music ever made, as it happens.
An undeniable masterpiece.
Music is very much a subjective term, as I have learned "the hard way." Because of my liking of bands who live on the often-tedious fringe between music and noise, I have often been confronted by those to object to my "non-music." Even for a band as inherently musical (not to mention supremely important) as This Heat, I have been requested (ordered, more like) to "turn off this, this... NOISE," the last word spat out with a venom more suited for a murderer or a terrorist. I can only imagine the reaction I would get if I were to play music more along the lines of Merzbow or, as is pertinent to this review, Kayo Dot.
Kayo Dot, spearheaded by Toby Driver, is one of those bands on the fringe I mentioned above, but not of the same sort as most. Rather than an uncompromising, noisy, perhaps even ugly sound, Kayo Dot's music is, quite distinctly, beautiful. Sometimes, this beauty is obvious, such as at the start of "The Manifold Curiosity," where a delicate melody (played on some woodwind) is backed by a hesitant drumbeat and slightly distorted guitar. Similarly, "A Pitcher of Summer" starts with clearly beautiful, acoustic guitar based music. Other times, however, the beauty is not so obvious. The beginning of the opening "Marathon" is noisy and chaotic, holding a disguised beauty that only becomes apparent after repeated listens, when the album finally starts to make sense.
That, in a nutshell, encapsulates the utter brilliance of Kayo Dot's debut, Choirs of the Eye. It is beautiful from start to finish, and it takes time to appreciate. Make no mistake about the latter, especially. I had Choirs of the Eye for at least six months before I finally "got" it. I could put this down to its outright inaccessibility, but I think there's more to it than that. After all, I am no stranger to music that is "out there," and even the most difficult CDs rarely take more than a month to grow on me. No, what took me so long to appreciate Choirs of the Eye is its subtlety. At every moment there are little things that add the perfect touch to the music, making the atmosphere at that moment just right. The way that these elements affect the music are not readily apparent, and thus the CD is not immediately striking. Take, for example, the hesitant drums on "The Manifold Curiosity," the monologue that begins "Marathon," and the entire section of "Wayfarer" that begins around 6:30. The first two seem almost like afterthoughts at first, only starting to make sense after multiple listens. While both of those augment more obvious aspects of the music around them, however, the section in "Wayfarer" is notable in that it is composed almost entirely of subtleties. The quiet strumming, the slow, steady drums, the barely audible sound effects - all are insignificant taken alone, and indeed the entire section seems insignificant at first, but once you realize how each element fits with the others, it becomes one of the most powerful parts of the album.
So it is with the rest of the CD. Even when the music is beating you senselessly over the head (such as on the end of "The Manifold Curiosity"), there is more happening than first meets the ear. Even now, after countless listens, I find new subtleties each listen. You want to know the only other CD I can really say that about? CAN's Tago Mago, which just happens to be my favorite CD. Kayo Dot's Choirs of the Eye reaches a similarly high level because of it's command of subtlety. That is the triumph of Choirs of the Eye and the key reason I regard Toby Driver as a modern musical genius (in the company of John Zorn, among others). So, in case any of you haven't realized this yet, Choirs of the Eye is most definitely music. Some of the greatest music ever made, as it happens.
An undeniable masterpiece.
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