Render Another Ugly Method

構成数 : 2
合計収録時間 : 00:00:00
The second album from Kristine Leschper's idiosyncratic indie rock project Mothers, Render Another Ugly Method already represents a marked stylistic expansion just two years after the band's debut. With production by Grammy winner John Congleton, whose well-established resume includes such elite alt artists as St. Vincent, Alvvays, and Angel Olsen, it ventures away from a haunting, forlorn folk-rock into a more ambitious exploration of structure, rhythm, and emotional malaise. Borrowing from experimental figures including the Fall, Fred Frith, Harmonia, and Lizzy Mercier Descloux, just a few of the musicians Leschper cited as post-debut discoveries and influences on the album, it still carries the ethereal quality and distinct intimacy of Mothers' prior work. The album opens with the spare, plodding -- one could argue thematically mind-numbing -- "Beauty Routine." Echoing guitar tones and interjected snare, toms, and cymbal accompany Leschper's deadpan, half-spoken howl until the tempo picks up halfway through as the drums settle into a rhythm and the lyrics become more motivated to perform "extreme forms of distraction." Not entirely compliant, however, she closes the song with the words "Show me a beauty routine to erase me completely." The track that follows, "Pink," contrasts with racing bass and drums as it sets a scene in the back seat of a car. After detached vocals drop out, the last couple minutes of the nearly seven-minute track surge into feedback and distortion. As the rest of the album continues in kind, trading arid, unsettled soundscapes and aggressive, sometimes hyperkinetic ones, its syncopated rhythms, overlapping guitar lines, and dissonance consistently trump melody and form. For that reason, it's a challenging album, especially at close to an hour in length. It's one that holds its share of fascination, however, with its alternately biting and poetic lyrics, persistent ache, and unpredictable patterns that are still discernable if often transient. ~ Marcy Donelson