- by Neil Condron
- Monday, August 21, 2006
Some bands make a noise that is earthy, primal and vital; as necessary as a cry of pain or of pleasure. Other bands refrain from such impulses, poring instead over every note, building soaring musical movements up from the barest of melodies and most inconsequential of harmonic coincidences. Cyann & Ben are not so much resident at the latter school as sitting at the front of the class, asking, “can we have homework please, sir?” (not before putting up their hands, naturally).
Consequently, ‘Sweet Beliefs’ is a record that strains to burst out of its shackles but is never quite allowed to run free. The signs are promising: Opener ‘Words’ is intimate yet threatening, the sense of control keeping the wheels on track as things build to an ‘Astronomer Domine’ style close. But that’s about as unkempt as things get until the sparse ‘Vienna’ -like synthetic drums of final track ‘Sparks Of Love’ give way to the most un-rocking of rocking outros. As our guides, Cyann & Ben take us to some breathtaking places, but they’re always that bit too cautious to floor the pedal.
It’s hard to criticise individual tracks on ‘Sweet Beliefs’, as each excursion is a genuinely wondrous depth charge to the heart of Cyann & Ben’s post-rock world. Fans of Air and Elbow will be intrigued by the ghostly whispered vocals of the crawling ‘Sunny Morning’ (featuring Greg Weeks of Espers), while the chiming guitars that turn the hushed hymn ‘In Union With… ’ into a wall of noise will prick the ears of anyone who’s ever listened to a Mogwai track slowly erupt to its conclusion. Collectively, however, these tracks make up an album that’s about as varied in its moods as a Christmas episode of Eastenders.
Cyann & Ben are obviously masters of their own vision, and perhaps it’s wrong that we should ask for more than that. Each of the nine songs on ‘Sweet Beliefs’ is a perfectly-formed lovechild bearing all the mannerisms of its parents. But, as one gentle drone segues into yet another gentle drone, the question nags increasingly away: wouldn’t it be nice to have a bastard in the family?
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