It probably won't come as a big surprise that most Splendid writers do a lot of their listening at work. You'll therefore understand that while we usually have time to listen to each CD two or three times, vinyl presents more of a challenge. Most of us don't have turntables at work, which means carving time out of the already-busy evening schedule. Singles aren't so tough to fit in, but a full-length vinyl LP requires us to stay in one (often fairly confined) place and listen attentively -- and it can be hard to find the time, not to mention the privacy, in which to do that.
In order to finally make time to listen to Priapus records' epic Pieces of a Utopian Puzzle, I had to be laid off from my job -- a lucky break for Priapus, if not for me. Listening to a three-album set of sprawling, long-form rock songs, and keeping it fresh in the mind, requires a fairly open schedule. So I picked a chilly December afternoon, sprawled on the couch and began the journey.
Pieces of a Utopian Puzzle features six bands, and devotes a vinyl side to each of them, creating the equivalent of a boxed set of six EPs. This not only allows each group a lot of "space", but permits them to make a complete artistic statement without the next band's material coming in on their heels a la typical compilations. Of course, you can't really assess long-form textural explorations in the same way that you review a three-minute pop song. Much of the material here aspires to make nothing more than a sidelong sensory impression, so critical assessments of technique are less important than subtle perceptual intuition.
First up is Accelera Deck. Their Saint 13Scape EP is the most overtly electronic, and also the most obtrusive, of the six sides. "Gestalt" begins as a sort of frenetic, schizophrenic drum and bass workout in which the segments of melody have become jumbled and misaligned. "Actuarial" and "Iactuarial" gradually slow the pace to a moody crawl. The whole EP is striking.
Hopewell, a Mercury Rev sideline, provide perhaps the most pleasing side. Their three movement Future Symphony features the skeletal remains of pop melodies. The sounds are lush, but slowed to an absolute crawl, creating a sort of religious shoegazing experience. It's extremely satisfying.
Meisha's "On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (July 4th 10:33p.m.)" is a single piece of unabashed drone fantasy, punctuated by the sound of exploding fireworks. The fireworks are a questionable idea; listeners who don't identify the sound right away might mistake their percussive pops for flaws in the record's surface. However, as a method of adding a visual dimension for mesmerized listeners, they're quite effective -- particularly with headphones.
Planetarium's Cumulus is unabashed space rock for a new millennium. Turn it up loud enough and you'll be convinced that there's a big saucer hovering above your home. And who's to say there isn't?
Spaceheads kick off the final LP with Stolen from Paradise, a three-movement EP that mixes up trumpet, voice, drums, bass and a whole lot of effects. Equal parts jazz action and Manchester slouch, it might even get your feet moving.
On the final side, Your Team Ring feeds you ten tracks of introverted moodiness. If you've listened to all six sides straight through, this one'll put you in the can. There's a very strong chance that you'll achieve nothing useful for the rest of the day.
So how is it? I found it all very satisfying. This isn't a genre in which I find myself compelled to critique individual sonic shifts, so unless someone decides to throw in "Funky Drummer" beats or wanky Satriani-style solos, I'm not hard to please. Each side passed quickly and enjoyably, and I was never overly eager for any of them to end. Indeed, if I had the time -- and I do -- I might carve out more slack-time tomorrow and float through Pieces of a Utopian Puzzle again...even though the three LP format keeps forcing me to get up from the couch just when I'm getting comfy.
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