punxsutawney - Untitled
The Los Angeles Post-Rock, Post-Hardcore, Post-whatever-you-like five-piece that consist of Sage, Albert, Sam, Michael and Caleb AKA punxsutawney(the band, not the Pennsylvanian town known for groundhogs and the movie with Bill Murray) release their self-titled debut EP. There's an air of something particularly special which wisps out of this project. A deep understanding of song structure - bordering on the level of mastery - as well as a keen ear for tone and texture are apparent.
The EP is comprised of four instrumentals tallying a total of 27-minutes. Two tracks of more regular length - "Jade's Song" and "This is Not the Way Home" - and two of a more extended timeframe - opener "Rin" and closer "Landing System".
Within the first couple minutes of the opening track "Rin" the previous statement about borderline mastery should be apparent. It's well thought through, rigorously tried and tested. The track reaches breathing point just after the four-minute mark, before it slowly plucks itself back into motion and towards breaking point. The calm before the rising tide and inevitable storm.
The project is stuffed full of math-y bits. There's enough of the pretty, twinkly guitarwork in there among the more heavy bouts of angular dissonance to fulfil a sense of intricacy. It's the intricate among the behemoth - a sort of David and Goliath battle between the sailor and the sea. The bittersweetness of an Unwound, the angular springs of a Slint as well as the sprawlingness of a Godspeed You! Black Emperor is the best way that I can describe the output of punxsutawney.
The two tracks of shorter length - "Jade's Song" and "This Is Not the Way Home" - sit sandwiched between sprawling pieces. They both harbour a less agitated and rustled feel. A more serene water is set out upon. Although that's not to say that things don't hit choppy pastures, they certainly do.
The 11-minute journey in "Landing System" begins on continuous taps of the hi-hat, soon to be joined by a few snaps of the snare. Arching, aching sounds whale overhead. Grey rainbows. A reminiscent jangle, which wouldn't be out of place on an American Football album, eases, breezes the track forwards like a lush dream. But like with any dream, you must wake up.
The longing for something or someone to return, although the prospect isn't possible. The skin-crawling sensation of having gone too far. Life hasn't panned out the way you planned. Stuck in first gear with no real signs that there's another gear to shift into - reverse is the only open channel. The tightness in your chest locked in like a birdcage wrapped around your ribs. A melancholia which is hard to shake off hangs around, zaps the colour out of everything. A momentary lapse in judgement leads you down the well-worn wrong path. Here we are, again. The more well-worn, the harder it is to get well away. Slow to build but quick to disappear, the right path fades from view.
Punxsutawney blaze trails which some of the best bands only wish they could follow. These guys are ones to look out for, without question.
