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We may well be entering the winter of Esben And The Witch. Theirs is the
name on the lips of every self-respecting music industry expert, and the
hype is building to a crescendo. The witch-house trio been kicking around since 2009,
but this summer has been monumental for them, after an acclaimed debut at
Latitude and the exciting news in August that they'd signed to Matador.
With an album set for release early in 2011 and a world tour ready to fly, the
pertinent question is whether they can live up to expectations. Judging
from this EP, they're well on their way to doing so.
Named after a
morbid Danish fairy tale, theirs is a stark, often nightmarish musical
canvas, coloured with dark, echoing minimalism and often-violent lyrical
overtones. It is also, in a word, beautiful.
The lyrics (when
audible above the roaring instrumentals) are pure poetry. Marching Song
begins with an evocative, scene-setting couplet, delivered in the
other-worldly voice of Rachel Davies: "In a wilderness of foggy
thoughts/Battling with your mind's retorts." Drums trudge through a
feedback-filled murmur that grows into a ghostly howl. The texture is
uncluttered, yet swirls around like a gathering storm.
Visitors to their
website are (at the time of writing) greeted with the simple yet stunning music video.
Directed by David Procter and Peter King, it captures the mood of this
simmering track perfectly. Alternating headshots of the band become
increasingly bloodied, the growing clamour of guitar matched by a deepening
red tinge to the camera. The abrupt ending just adds to the drama.
Done Because We Are Too Menny opens with an echoing whistle which runs a
real risk of slipping into the theme from The X Files. Mercifully,
it builds instead into an eerie minimalism. Trapped in a twisted, almost
surreal haze of threatening feedback and echoing chant, the listener is
left feeling disorientated and questioning their sanity. The power of this
music is its understated madness - somewhere something is a little
unhinged, and it's disturbingly beautiful.
In the epic final track,
Souvenirs, stringy synths and reversed cymbal sweeps coalesce over an
insistent, shuffling drum beat. At nine minutes long, it's almost
overly repetitive and tiresome, but doesn't quite cross the
threshold, staying on the side of gradual atmospheric progression. The mix
is cut through by striking vocal chords as haunting as they are piercing,
growing increasingly tortured. Eventually the EP is set to rest on a single
resonant guitar line, and a moment of reflective silence is genuinely
needed before resuming life outside the song.
This is a formidable
release, with all the drama of standing on a rocky cliff watching a tempest
approach. What variety of material will
come from so striking a starting formula remains to be seen. The tracks on this EP don't sound
like three standalone songs so much as three parts of the same musical
project, three aspects of the whole with little to define them
individually. Yet listening to some of their other material (more upbeat
Skeleton Swoon strikes a pleasing contrast), repetitiveness is unlikely to
be a problem. Do believe the hype; this is breathtaking music that
will catch you off guard.
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