The Score Magazine - Archive April 2015 issue! | Page 44

Indie reviews
Postcards
(Akash Vincent)
There's always a secret pleasure taken in the discovery of music that carries the musician's
intentions as the point of its existence. I'm not sure what Akash Vincent intended, but his music
throbs with a mixture of frailty and refinement that invokes appreciation of an enlightened,
vulnerable man looking to confess by proxy. Taking Over is breathless and tries to cram in too
much beauty, losing some in the process. Vincent's voice is slightly off-key and all over the place,
but the guitar and sax betrays none of the same amateurism. Seasons focuses on keeping to a
claptrap beat, licked over the edges by shy-but-sure strings. His voice gains a surer foot here,
and suddenly acquires an unusual lilt that immediately establishes the album's most identifiable
trait. Entangled works on a heady whirl of guitar and bass that moves like an eager lover's first
caress – exciting and restrained at the same time. He builds it up just the right amount before
crashing into the tantalizing abstractions framed by layered strips of fingerpicked acoustic clicks.
She comes off as a far-off-gaze kind of song ; the kind that you imagine singing to yourself rather
than an audience. The heartbeat-matched drums ensure a carefully orchestrated ascent while
Vincent sings with an abandon that I can't be sure is constructed purposely. Admittance of failure
is brushed off rather quickly in favour of admittance of love – the music is beautiful but not
penetrating and will take a while to replicate the auguries of an astute soul.
Refreshing absence of synths, honest, confessional songwriting.
Vincent's voice tends to meander off into unfocused loops.
Recommended: Seasons, She
Future Flashbacks
(Colaba Point)
A pall of disenchantment pervades this 10-track affair, most of which is sown into unfocused
stretches of plump ambient tugs. Himalayan Sky cushions you a number of liquid soundscapes
while Paper Hands unfolds itself, layer by vocal layer, like an inadvertent revelation. Sad But
Not Blue could holds steady to an aesthetic of minimal variation that swims and spread around
the lyrics like a choral bleed. Sublime validates its title, crashing a conglomeration of rushing
beats with the xylophone's wistful clinks. This guy ( feat. Doug Counter) features a wayward
slush of sound samples held tight by a few intoxicating string tones and loaded synths. Silently
builds up on fuzzy guitars and regular drumbeat which could fit into some sedate version of an
avant-garde stoner flick. Spell chimes in with a couple of enviable guitar solos and generally
admirable stringwork amid choppy tracking in synths. Ripples unleashes rhythmic proliferation
with a series of glassy sounds and a brilliant percussive progression that tosses a delicious
smorgasbord of eclectic melody. Noise City personifies a measure of musical abandon and
Reminiscence uses pressed harmonica sounds to enact an introspective sense of reconciliation
with existential certainties of variation. The song uses untethered, sprightly sounds to build a
ditzy tempo that listeners might be confused by.
Impressive composition that makes for pleasurable hearing.
Involves a degree of complexity that might put off the less astute listener.
Recommended: Paper Hands, Ripples, Spell, Noise City.
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