Post by thesoundmonitor on May 28, 2004 8:32:15 GMT -5
CLANN ZU
Black Coats & Bandages
(G7 Welcoming Committee)
For the second year running, Irish/Aussie combo Clann Zu have delivered a brilliant album destined for history’s greatest, let alone end of year top 10’s. The holistic and thematic nature of Black Coats… will leave many a rock fan bewildered, but with patience and an open mind even the most hardened will have trouble standing beneath the emotional weight of this, one of Australia’s darkest masterpieces.
Where the band’s debut full length, Rua skipped from post-rock to electronic dirges to Irish jigs, the follow-up is far more consistent, focusing on the post-classical, post-rock as witnessed by Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Rachel’s, Radiohead and Nick Cave.
2004 also sees a more solidified Clann Zu line-up, ushering in more spacious, craftier songwriting while the warmth created by recording straight to 2” tape summons the spirits of many seventies proggers, though without the anal retention.
For the most part the album floats along, lilting in the breeze, disturbed only by the occasional shrill of the electric violin, or the orgasmic post-rock build-up. ‘An T-ean Ban’ adopts a decidedly more jazz approach, with its laid-back untreated guitars, and unobtrusive percussion, while ‘One Bedroom Apartment’ is as instant as the album gets. Beginning like a Led Zeppelin with Ray Manzarek (The Doors) epic, Declan De Barra’s vocals crush with disturbing anguish, not unlike the opening track from Rua. Russell Fawcus introduces a Rachel’s-ish piano movement halfway through, along with noise-guitar provided by the ever-adaptable Ben Andrews, while brother Liam is restrained with great efficacy on bass. Hell… I haven’t even mentioned Rohan Rebeiro’s percussive contribution or the string quartet that completes the track with colour and depth!
‘From An Unholy Height’ grimaces with menacing concern, while ‘You’ll Have To Swim’ is melancholic in pure, repetitive God Machine. Liam Andrews’ bass ability is the cornerstone of this track as he plays the rules like every good post-rock bassist should, while De Barras fragile vocals again pierce the heart with their pain and torment.
Quite frankly, it doesn’t get much better than this.
By Warren Wheeler
Black Coats & Bandages
(G7 Welcoming Committee)
For the second year running, Irish/Aussie combo Clann Zu have delivered a brilliant album destined for history’s greatest, let alone end of year top 10’s. The holistic and thematic nature of Black Coats… will leave many a rock fan bewildered, but with patience and an open mind even the most hardened will have trouble standing beneath the emotional weight of this, one of Australia’s darkest masterpieces.
Where the band’s debut full length, Rua skipped from post-rock to electronic dirges to Irish jigs, the follow-up is far more consistent, focusing on the post-classical, post-rock as witnessed by Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Rachel’s, Radiohead and Nick Cave.
2004 also sees a more solidified Clann Zu line-up, ushering in more spacious, craftier songwriting while the warmth created by recording straight to 2” tape summons the spirits of many seventies proggers, though without the anal retention.
For the most part the album floats along, lilting in the breeze, disturbed only by the occasional shrill of the electric violin, or the orgasmic post-rock build-up. ‘An T-ean Ban’ adopts a decidedly more jazz approach, with its laid-back untreated guitars, and unobtrusive percussion, while ‘One Bedroom Apartment’ is as instant as the album gets. Beginning like a Led Zeppelin with Ray Manzarek (The Doors) epic, Declan De Barra’s vocals crush with disturbing anguish, not unlike the opening track from Rua. Russell Fawcus introduces a Rachel’s-ish piano movement halfway through, along with noise-guitar provided by the ever-adaptable Ben Andrews, while brother Liam is restrained with great efficacy on bass. Hell… I haven’t even mentioned Rohan Rebeiro’s percussive contribution or the string quartet that completes the track with colour and depth!
‘From An Unholy Height’ grimaces with menacing concern, while ‘You’ll Have To Swim’ is melancholic in pure, repetitive God Machine. Liam Andrews’ bass ability is the cornerstone of this track as he plays the rules like every good post-rock bassist should, while De Barras fragile vocals again pierce the heart with their pain and torment.
Quite frankly, it doesn’t get much better than this.
By Warren Wheeler