God's Little Eskimo - In Play in Borely Rectory

Multi instrumentalism is a powerful tool to many a lonely composer, but it is still a tool and may or may not be put to good use. Would anyone in this age of plenty know, or care, whether a burst of brass for example was the result of a fifty piece band or a heavily edited keyboard patch? Does hard work, sweat and blood really matter?

God’s Little Eskimo (or God’s Little Inuit, if you’re being politically correct) is a solo project of the illusive Jonny Eskimo, a self declared ‘one manned band’ as well as a keen illustrator.

So yeah, he’s multi talented, blah blah what’s in it for us? Well, you selfish, superficial jackass, nothing for the impatient or mass consumptive. If the record were to take physical form, it would be a laboured piece of arts and crafts; like a wicker basket, or a knitted sweater. It has a scratched, everyman charm that unites the bedroom studio ethic of Wavves with the folksong expression of Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy. Steve Reich once said that the true folk music of our time was being made in the bedrooms and garages of ordinary people. Reich was right about a lot of things.

The clunky and grainy nature, an experiment in Gypsy Folk sensibilities, strays from the genuinely unsettling to the mournful and sad. Featuring a zither (yay), ‘Who’s That Calling Your Name’ begins cloaked in deceptive and enticing beauty only to crash into jarring dissonance. His finest track, ‘At The Base of Her Spine’ is also his most aggressive, shouting “Sink your teeth into my soul” in unreserved passion. Jonny sings in a high, minstrel style – like Jon Boden from Bellowhead on a comedown – and the music is wide awake, intimate and lovingly put together.

At Play In Borely Rectory rests directly on a thin line dividing brilliance and stupidity, sort of like Eddie Izzards ‘Circle of Cool’ gag. It teeters between the two, like an eccentric, pleasantly drunk trapeze artist. In this position, it’s a cult folk classic in hibernation. A record of such sincere strangeness will always find someone, somewhere to inspire. Who knows where it could go from there.

(© Copyright 2009 Brendan Morgan)

Sennen - Destroy Us

In fear of falling into repetitive, zombified writing, I had made up my mind to quit reviewing any more ‘nugaze’ for a while. It lasted a couple seconds. We all have our addictions and Sennen from Norwich might have been my next love affair. But it wasn’t to be. They tick all the boxes but still leave a little to be desired. It’s awful when you discover that love isn’t blind.

The problem is that they lack a noticeable shade of colour to separate them from the prism of other rising dream pop acts. Destroy Us is more of the same post rock guitar layering and huffing and puffing, unable to move mountains as intended. Case in point: ‘The Distance from A to B’ climbs and climbs only to fall on an anti climax. It’s bathetic or, to lower the tone, like interrupted sex. If you want EPIC guitar crescendos then you’d be better off turning to the unsigned Dezerett, a Florida based trio that call down some biblical, God-like climaxes.

By track three the EP finds its feet. The earnest and well executed ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ is enough to rescue it from being forgotten in the caverns of itunes. Here, the drummer, James Brown, whose role is otherwise functional in the band, pulls his finger out and moulds the rhythms into more daring shapes. Pseudo-religious pop archaisms like “Every time I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray” are nearly poetic when supported by the strong melody and Interpol style guitars. It’s then taken way too far on ‘Figurene’: a soupy, sad bastard that sounds identical to Christian pop (shudder).

During its better moments, Destroy Us displays amiable song crafting suggestive of The Chameleons and soft, creamy vocal harmonies that would complete a milkshake. Not lacking in emotion by any means, their ethos is untouchable. What brings them down is their manifestation of those deep thoughts. This problem could be mine however, as I just can’t shake off the pessimism that’s been shadowing me lately. It’s like Sennen say: “Is there anything left for us to destroy?”

(© Copyright 2009 Brendan Morgan)