Review Summary: Spooky remains of songs that could have been, echoing in sorrow.
ATMOSPHERE:
Noun
The dominant mood or emotional tone of a work of art, as of a play or novel.
This is the main word I use when describing
Death of the Sun, the solo debut from Matteah Baim. Baim was one half of self-proclaimed "soft metal" duo Metallic Falcons (the other half being Sierra Cassidy from the incredible duo CocoRosie.) Metallic Falcons recorded only one album,
Desert Doughnuts; atmospheric depictions of who-knows-what, presented to us in airy compositions. Breathy vocals, distorted guitars, and looming fogs adorned the album and completely encompassed the listener in -- well -- atmospheres. It was evident from
Doughnuts that Matteah Baim had a distinct, airy voice, almost resembling the tide sifting in and out. The album was nice, but it wasn't fully materialized; most of the songs seemed more like atmospheric cuts strung together. The same quality weights down Matteah Baim's solo debut also.
Death of the Sun IS technically the solo record of Baim, yet it sounds perhaps-not-so-coincidentally like Metallic Falcon's record. This is a collection of nine diferent atmospheres, most of which are complete with nearly incomprehensible vocals, minimalistic guitars, and space. Yes. Just space. This record is a very spacious record.
Opener "River" is one of the prettier songs, and it's easier to listen to intently than some of the others because it has a nice, solid melody. Actually, it's one of the few that is actually a complete song. However, right off the bat, it proves my point. "River" opens with quiet wave-sounds and ominous keyboard noises along with some spare guitar. Welcome to the basic formula. Then slowly the seemingly-processed drone starts to come in along with Baim's comely vocals. This is all nice and sweet, and I wasn't turned off yet. But the song kind of sifts, as expected. It takes nearly the whole song for her and her small group of followers to kick up the volume. And when they do, it's nothing spectacular. Some nice drumming and fluttering piano... that's about it, and then it ends, and moves on to the almost unbearably hollow "Dark Ship" which is only held together by a soft meld of unintelligible instrumentation.
The first really good song is "Wounded Whale," with it's spooky flesh slowly revealing itself over her sorrowful vocals, ending in a swell. In the chorus, when she sings "Wounded whale swam down," she sounds like a wounded whale. There is some message in this song, but I am unable to fully decipher it.
Over the course of the next 5 songs, nothing really changes. The title track is a nice instrumental cut with roaring from her electric guitar, and "Seven Stars" actually achieves serenity, despite it's thick haze. However, in between these two, lies a somewhat awkward cover of the traditional "Michael Row the Boat Ashore" (renamed "Michael Row") in which the odd harmonies stumble into an irritatingly monotonous "I wish she hit this note instead of that note."
The Devendra Banhart collaboration is my least favorite track, which is weird because Banhart's contribution is probably one of the better moments. The song lays limp for nearly 2 minutes before he has a small, great glint at the end.
But we are soon saved by the last two tracks: "Far Away Songs," (which, by the way, explains the mood of every song here in its title) and "Up is North," which finally loosens up and cranks the volume a tad to give us a very satisfying thunderous climax, with the best vocals on the record. Also: a great melody, some really fantastic instrumentation, and some lyrics you can actually understand (!!) all accumulate to make me say: I wish the rest of the album sounded this magnificent.
Death of the Sun is a sometimes-creepy, sometimes-irritating collection of songs. Actually, these aren't really songs. I think of them as the skeletons of songs. Aside from "Far Away Songs," and "Up is North" (which both sound fuller than the rest,) the songs here sound like the song has died and left only a cage of bones, in which the song still softly radiates, like a plaintive echo. This is the image I get from Matteah Baim's debut. This isn't bad, and it's definitely not for everyone. It just seems like she needs to sink a little deeper in her melancholia and make fuller songs. Because despite all of this and all of that, I can tell she is on to something.
TOP TRACKS:
River
Wounded Whale
Up is North
