Review Summary: You're so far around the bend.
Those familiar with Clogs excellent 2006 record Lanterns may be thrown off my “Cocodrillo”. An A Capella introduction that swells into choral work that wouldn’t sound too out of place in an Eric Whitacre program, the song opens the album with a playful melody. So right away one might think that Clogs have opted for a lighter sound to the string heavy melancholy of Lanters. Well you would be half right. Certainly the first two tracks on The Creatures In the Garden of Lady Walton hint at the whimsical more than the sorrowful, but soon the album shifts back into more familiar territory. By no means is that a bad thing at all. The neo-classical post-rock outfit, fronted by Bryce Dressner of everybody and their mother’s favourite The National fame, this is an album full of intrinsic beauty, endless melody and a delicateness that earns the plethora of great guest spots given. From Shara Worden (a couple of people like The Decemberists’ last album right?) to Aaron Dressner, The Creatures in the Garden of Lady Walton feels somewhat like a party that would be streamed over NPR.
After an absolutely phenomenal turn from Worden on the damn-near operatic “On the Edge”, Clogs start sounding more like a post-rock outfit on the shape shifting “Red Seas” which pummels effortlessly towards its ineffable climax. In fact, to label the band “post-rock” is quite the misnomer. Instruments are used the way they were originally intended here: melody and harmony. Violins aren’t relegated to simply sounding pretty; they’re incredibly melodic and their beauty comes from the ability to push and pull the pieces in every which way. The guitar work remains largely classically influenced, as gently finger-plucked phrases are at the heart of many of these pieces. In fact, a neo-classical act is more akin a label than post-rock on The Creatures. The jazz and rock tendencies more prominent on past releases are left in the shadows of a more classical approach. It isn’t a modern version of classical per say, either. The guitar and mandolin backed “The Owl of Love” sounds down right baroque by today’s standards by the time the violin bridge sweeps in. (And is it just me, or does “In the night / I suck it in” sound highly suggestive to anybody else?)
If there is a fault to be had on The Creatures is that at times it feels a little bit too delicate. As the back half of the record gains an almost airy feel, the listener has a yearning for an injection of energy. Of course the question would be, “at what cost?” This is an album that has an atmosphere unique onto itself compared to its contemporaries. Opting for a major crescendo somewhere in the second half might feel like a cheap. A quick out to appease the impatient listener. For in reality this is an album of melody and contemplating, not of epically soaring bombardments. The beauty is in its finer parts, not its overall feeling. It takes an appreciation of the craftsmanship to fully understand what makes this album work so well. Melodies don’t always come easy, and just when you expect that I-IV-V progression, it hits you with an odd ball chord. It’s as progressive as a non-progressive album could be.
So really, The Creatures in the Garden of Lady Walton is not a very cool album. It will not send the kids in frenzy as the newest, hippest thing; despite a mournful appearance from every indie kids favourite baritone Matt Berringer on “Last Song”, not to mention a Mr. Sufjan Stevens. What the album will be considered as, is a triumph for those in favour of ditching the quirkiness and sticking to good old melody and song writing. This garden is a place where understanding the fundamental basics of melody, harmony and bass, still mean something. A simple approach, with not so simple execution results in a painstakingly beautiful album. It holds a cinematic quality, but does not rely on images to be interesting. Yes; indeed this is truly interesting music, from an avant-garde chamber ensemble that blends jazz, classical and just about anything else.