All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone
April 14th, 2007
My uncle leant me The Earth is Not a Cold and Dead Place by Explosions in the Sky around this time last year. The whole album was recorded as a single MiniDisc track, so if I started listening to it, I listened all the way through. In a way this was quite liberating, as I didn’t have any favourite tracks to listen to repeatedly; so songs didn’t become tired and worn out–I imagine that would have happened with “Your Hand In Mine”, with its central riff that runs so smoothly along the neck of the guitar that you want to follow it in the air with your hand.
All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone is in the same style of the previous releases, with guitarists Munaf Rayani, Mark Smith and Michael James on bass, pounding out the crescendos to the marching drum beats of Chris Hrasky. It opens confidently with the viscerally moving, heavily distorted rumbling of “The Birth and Death of Day”: the catastrophe of the album that is traveled through in subsequent songs.
Whereas The Earth emphasised the clean Fender-sound (if you’ve ever heard hand-bells, the two sounds are not dissimilar) All of a Sudden is likelier to lapse into a fusion with the drum and the frenzied guitar picking ranging right up to match the symbols, noticeable in “It’s Natural to be Afraid”.
The album picks up the initial foreboding in “What Do You Go Home To”, which introduces the tinkling of a piano that is integrated seamlessly with the guitar. It is amazing the sounds they can pull out of the strings, so different instruments never seem necessary, but the piano is carefully added to enhance–not to overwhelm. This is important, as to me adding lots of instruments would take out the magic in wondering how they make the guitar sound as it does. At the end of the instrumental a low moaning guitar reverberates with a drum that sounds like the chopping of a helicopter.
When listening to an Explosions album you can’t take songs in isolation–indeed many of their songs are designed to run together. “Catastrophe and the Cure” surmises the album’s decision with a roaring cavalcade of drum smashes urging the progression of the central optimistic guitar riff. A few songs give me the shivers, this is one of them.
I think when you’re listening to charged instrumentals it’s hard not to imagine scenarios to put in front of the sound. With their enigmatic song titles and elusive cover-art penned by Esteban Ray, you could say readings are encouraged. Inside the (rather flimsy) cardboard case is a square poster saturated with colour (you can smell it) depicting various images with so much intrigue that they implore you to put them to the songs. You can decide on what interpretations you like, I’ll only convey I think “So Long, Lonesome” is a wry final judgement on your decision, a sort of smiling “we may not have got you now, but you’ll be back”.
I bought the Limited Edition version that comes with six remixes of the original six songs, but don’t worry if you can’t buy this, as they’re not essential. Also unfortunately the case tore slightly; I do like the trend for cardboard, but it needs at least some plastic reinforcement. Most amusing however is the Four Tet mix with the addition of a ruler being slapped on the table–somehow it works.
May 18th, 2007 at 12:16 pm
We thought that you missed us.
We miss you.
May 18th, 2007 at 5:04 pm
I admit these last few days at college have left me missing a few things; you two too.
May 26th, 2007 at 9:21 pm
[…] Explosions in the Sky played the soundtrack to Friday Night Lights: this coupled with my romanticism motivated me to watch this film. It sounds ridiculous, but I used the same logic that if someone like Simon and Garfunkel, they would probably like The Graduate. […]