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: : Consumption : :
It’s been a couple of years since my last review for these pages, but
since no one else at prog4you seems to have written about this amazing
album, I decided to come back from self-imposed exile. And before I
actually address the stunning second album by Eyestrings, I’d like help
you understand where I’m coming from, and thus, allow you to judge my
ramblings accordingly. For the record: I’m not a fucking reviewer.
That’s right folks, I’m not a self-appointed “expert” on obscure bands
nobody but the biggest uber-nerds have ever heard, and I certainly have
no desire to be misconstrued as such.
Another common misconception is that my head is up my ass. Believe it or
not, I’m actually fond of Oxygen to the point one might say it’s an
affliction. The fact is I’m a musician, a music fan, and I consider
myself lucky to count Ryan, Mathew, Alan and Bob as my friends. And
that’s precisely why you should view the glowing review that will follow
as something objective. You see, I don’t have to kiss anyone’s ass,
least of all my friend’s asses (although that Mathew Kennedy is such a
tasty bassist and such a filthy, twisted bastard, I might just have to
kiss his). Furthermore, I didn’t get this disc in a brown padded mailer
from George. Nope! I bought this sensational album the minute I saw it
in Chris Lamka’s cash-eating bins, and I’m writing about it because no
one else has, and it’s about goddamn time someone here did!
So I’m just another consumer, who consumed “Consumption”: what an apt
title! Look it up in the dictionary and you’ll see it’s one of those
chameleons of the English language. It’s a dark whisper about economics,
about buying and selling. By necessity, it’s also all about satisfying
the pangs of mental and physical hunger. But if you scratch a bit under
the surface, you’ll see it’s also about pathology and the progressive
wasting of body tissues. Ask any really old doctor; if he hasn’t been
consumed yet by Alzheimer’s or senility, he might tell you it’s about
pulmonary tuberculosis.
This plurality of
identities, threaded by the ice-cold needle of cause and effect, is at
the heart of this album. Every song on this disc will worm it’s way
through your brain, leaving it like a mass of grey Gruyere. Every song
is quirky, hypnotic and filled with the Parmenter flair for dark beauty.
Every song is uniquely idiosyncratic, and in a genre filled with
imitators of the “great” bands of the 70’s, it’s a rare treat to find a
band that can make music distinctly their own.
Now, this isn’t an immediate love affair. Or at least, it wasn’t for me.
I had to listen to this album quite a bit before I could fully
appreciate it. If you’re the kind of person who craves instant
gratification, this album will probably leave you as cold as the omega
on the bald scalp of the puppeteer featured on the back of the album’s
sinister booklet. But if you have the time and patience to let the music
sink in and burrow through your brain, you’ll probably discover one of
the best and most criminally underrated albums of 2005.
Protocol demands a description of the tracks, comparing them to things
readers may have heard, but I refuse to succumb to peer pressure.
Besides, Eyestrings only sound like Eyestrings. All I can say is that my
personal favorites are the beautiful “Stagnant”, “Groove Seven” (which
kicked major ass during the band’s blistering set at ROSfest 2005), and
the epic closer “Lifelines”, where Parmenter sings:
Crawl so far - Fall back
home
Only to be greeted by a deadbolt
I sit with the barrel in my cold mouth
And the hand on the trigger isn’t mine
But the arm to the hand
Is connected to my shoulder…
Of course, who could ignore the double whammy of the acoustic opener
“All Sales Final” followed by the rocking “Valid For A Week”? The tasty,
hypnotic bass groove that kicks off the poignant “Slate Clean” would put
a smile on Bill Laswell’s face, and only a corpse wouldn’t feel shivers
running down the spine with the majestic “Code Of Tripe” (which, as a
nice bonus, features the writing talents of Mathew Kennedy,
complementing those of Ryan Parmenter).
Astute readers will immediately note I’ve listed every track on the
album. This is my way of saying I have no favorites; all songs on the
album are essential. Consuption is an album that, to my ears, is
perfectly balanced. Give it a shot, it’s a no brainer. It’s really
amazing to me these guys don’t get the recognition they deserve for
having released an album that should appeal not only to prog-heads, but
to anyone who likes rocking, adventurous music that will take you on one
hell of a headphone trip. Top musicianship, top song craft, it’s really
simple. Succumb to the instincts honed by years of watching television.
Consume! Unlike most of the crap you’re likely to buy any given week,
this album will reward you if you give it a chance.
I guess I’m supposed to give it a “score” now. Not really sure what that
means anymore. If I say it’s a 9.5 out of 10, would that persuade you to
give it a listen? How about if I say it can be more addictive than crack
on pussy? It really isn’t, but regardless, I just love this album and
I’m surprised it hasn’t created a bigger splash. I hope some folks give
it a few spins and decide for themselves.
Total score: 9.5 / 10
Reviewer: Luis Nasser
: : Visit the Artist’s Website : :
: : Discography : :
Consumption - 2005
Burdened Hands - 2004 |
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