Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Before I get into the post, the cover art for this EP was too good to pass up on, so I fiddled about with it and made it into the image you can see above. Would the music live up to the hype the art enthused however? That was the question I pondered before the answer of 'most definitely' settled in my ears. Mode7 is one guy from Portland, and his sound is one of scope. It throbs with an experimental pulse, while the beats retain a noisy, yet strangely danceable sensibility. The intricacies of the music boast rough texture, the sonic details scattered near and far, sculpting and refining the soundscape to create something captivating and lush and all together fantastic. 'Space Matterhorn', which you can stream above, cuts the last of the evening light and starts the descent of dusk. What may initially appear very inaccessible and difficult to get, as the song progresses and the beats kick in, you realise everything works, and rather than hearing noise, you hear every individual note and scrape and click and subtly the track has to offer. From the offset, water drips and sprays off cavern walls, echoing through the calm and coaxing dark, eerie sounds from the gloom. Deep, oozing synths slide across the floor, highlighted by flecks of light bounced from many a wall. The beats shoot like lasers from unknown vantage points, building and layering to form an unexpected anticlimax. A thoughtful step back from the noise slowly loses control. A need to be surrounded by the natural, primal urge of it all, you return to the middle of the room and stand, stunned into silence. 'The Grudger' follows as an equally intriguing number, before 'Abort, Retry, Fail?'s extended alien finger massage your mind. I haven't got enough time to go into detail about every track here, but believe me, I could. The amount of texture and sound and experimentation Mode7 has managed to cram in is nothing short of masterful. From the gritty reality of space, alone and without comfort, surrounded by metal and sharp edges and processed food, we're dealt 'Rainbow Blood', a higher key melody throbbing and rushing amongst celestial magnificence. 'Ghost Spinners' closes the EP, giving voice to the voiceless, and realisation to the unwilling to realise. 'War of the World'-esque whirrs and groans take form, bearing teeth and many a prying claw. A living, breathing collection of tracks, they each break free of modern musical restraints, exploring far into the world of experimentation, a quality I admire in both the sounds and the artist who bore them. I could not recommend this EP highly enough. If nothing else, it deserves a listen at least?