![]() ![]() Gautier's lyrics are elusive, in part due to the way she slips almost invisibly between French and English, but the melodic hooks on songs such as "Your Majesty Man" and the wistful "Year of Dalmatians" are substantial enough to ensure return visits. Fortunately, Starless & Bible Black have the songwriting chops to hold the listener's interest even when their sonics are more earthbound. For the occasion, Ullah really puts his full electronic arsenal to use, recalling some of Garth Hudson's crazier "Chest Fever" showcases with the Band, although with a decidedly artier, more European bent.Īstonishing as "Les Furies" is, its general strangeness does risk making the rest of the album seem rather too tame in comparison. It's a howling whirl of Moog and country guitar, jazzy interludes, and Gautier's layered, Cocteau Twins-like vocals: suffice it to say that this is a daring piece, and it ends appropriately enough with the sound of incredulous laughter in the studio. On these simpler tracks, Ullah's vintage synths often occupy the same tonal space that would traditionally belong to pedal steel, a subtle variation that enables the songs to sound at once familiar and yet vaguely alien.Īs the album progresses, however, these familiar landmarks become increasingly harder to spot, especially on "Les Furies", the album's nine-minute space/prog/country centerpiece. (The album was recorded in a village hall in the Snowdonian mountains, so apparently it comes by its rustic, panoramic vision honestly.) Following a brief electronic introduction that seems delivered straight from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, the fractured country-rock "Say Donny Say" crackles like a broken telegraph line, while the drolly-titled "Country Heir" allows Gautier a chance at lovesick balladry. ![]() If Starless & Bible Black were not actually British, it would be fairly easy to classify several tracks here as Americana and be done with it. On the debut, Raz Ullah's vintage electronics were used largely to add background accent and effect here they are much more integrated into the proceedings, with his varied drones providing essential foundational support beneath Gautier's vocals and Peter Phillipson's bracing Telecaster. Beyond that, however, Starless & Bible Black take virtually every opportunity to change things up. The songs here are still largely centered on the dusky alto of French-born Hélène Gautier, and several tracks, such as the opening "Say Donny Say", have a basic structure that echoes English and Appalachian folk tradition. After some time spent with Shape of the Shape, of course, traces of continuity do reveal themselves. ![]()
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