Do Make Say Think: Goodbye Enemy Airship the Landlord is Dead (2000)

As I search for words to express my feelings about DMST’s third release, Goodbye Enemy Airship the Landlord is Dead, I cannot help but be reminded of the analogy wherein our human understanding of truth is compared to the attempts of three blind men to describe an elephant to the best of their ability. Since the men are blind, their descriptions are based wholly on tactile data, which isn’t an altogether insurmountable disadvantage. It makes sense to assert that one could come to a reasonably accurate description of an elephant exclusively through the sense of touch. But here’s the rub of the entire thought experiment: each man is essentially assigned to one part of the beast. Therefore, they are forced to make judgments of the whole based on interaction with only one of the parts. You can guess where this is going. The man who feels the elephant’s tail states unequivocally that an elephant is slender and stringlike. The man who feels the elephant’s ears claims that elephants are like massive fronds. The man who feels the elephant’s trunk asserts that elephants are hollow and cylindrical. The upshot of the analogy is that all of the men’s observations are accurate insofar as they do, in point of fact, provide information about the elephant. The crucial mistake is that they assume knowledge of the particular can be extrapolated to the whole. Which leads to the matter at hand. Goodbye is such a rich and multi-faceted work that many are bound to view it in terms of singular characteristics in order to make it more manageable. Some are bound to view Goodbye as the pièce de résistance of the post-rock genre. Others, listening to the exact same record, will herald the album as an indictment against the bloated pretension of the post-rock ethos, citing its mischievous character and lightheartedness as proof that it represents the antithesis to the "woe is me" mentality that informs much of the genre's finer works. Such conjecture, while gratifying to some extent, fails to account for the album’s brilliance dans l’ensemble. The album is rife with the experimentalism and superior musicianship that one would expect from listening to the prior two releases, but it also exhibits that inexplicable quality that is shared by all musical works of consequence. There is something primordial, something universal, about the tones and textures the band employs. I revisit the album often and it never ceases to impress me. Goodbye is the rare album that retains its relevance even as one’s tastes and perceptions change. Goodbye must surely be ranked among the handful of impeccable records produced in the last decade.

Do Make Say Think: Besides E.P. (1999)

In contrast to the numinous atmospherics and washed out drone of DMST’s self-titled release, the Besides EP showcases the band’s ability to create striking and intense rock melodies. Perhaps the most salient feature of the record is how the band is able to imbue the tracks with such breadth and texture, considering that the songs are all anchored by relatively simple melodic phrasing. “Bobby Zincone” affirms without any reservation that the band can produce tightly spun epic movements with the best of their label mates. As with the ST release, there is plenty about the Besides EP that will surprise you. One of DMST’s most impressive features is their ability to concentrate myriad influences into a cohesive whole and not have the end result sound muddled and ostentatious. A dedicated synthesis of precision and abandon, the Besides EP is an album that generously rewards the listener.

Do Make Say Think: ST (1998)

The first Do Make Say Think album I ever heard was the breathtaking goodbye enemy airship the landlord is dead. I remember the whole experience as if it occurred yesterday. I was listening to Yanqui U.X.O. by Godspeed You Black Emperor at the time and I was flipping through the Constellation Records order form that came tucked safely between the album artwork and liner notes. Of all the bands listed, I chose to invest my last bit of money for the month into Do Make Say Think. I always do my best to start with a band's first album so I can get a sense of the natural and inevitable sense of progression that occurs between each release. But for some reason that remains inexplicable to this day, I broke my time honored tradition and began my foray into the world of DMST with goodbye. After quickly becoming obsessed with goodbye, it was only natural to search for the band's other releases. It was with a bit of trepidation that I approached the band's debut, eponymous release. After all, it only makes sense that a band's first offering be somewhat muddled and not fully realized. Imagine my surprise when I learned that none of these shortcomings applied to DMST. Their debut was exciting and unwieldy, full of surprise and endless variation. As a teenager, trying seriously to establish lifelong musical preferences, DMST's eponymous release was a godsend. Its fuzzed out, jazz-inflected, psychedelic glory was the perfect antidote for my growing disillusionment with the state of music. It made me realize the incredible power a band could possess when they play music that is true to each of the member's creative impulses. This is not to suggest that the album is not challenging. I've listened to it in the neighborhood of three dozen times and I still feel somewhat ill-equipped to chart its features. At times, abrasive, at others, mesmerizing. At times, dissonant, at others, genuinely melodic. At times, as frightening and awe-inspiring as one's first glimpse of the ocean, at others, as soothing and familiar as the house where you were raised. The album is both an energetic and brilliant pronouncement and an enticing sample of things to come.

Bastard

Up to this point, I have been arguing the thesis that Finneyerkes’ three albums, Gather & Sing, Without End, and Bastard, are best taken as a cohesive whole as opposed to three distinct albums. For the purposes of this present post, “up to this point” will be the operative phrase. I say this because, on the surface, the album Bastard seems to be an hour-long refutation of my theory. From the droning chimes that herald the start of “Cobain,” the album’s opener, to the supple atmospherics that saturate the last track, "Honeymoon at the Holocaust Museum," Bastard definitely explores musical textures not present on the prior releases. Don't misunderstand me, Bastard does not represent a sea change for the band, but it does place the burden of proof on this reviewer's shoulders. To that end, I offer the humble assertion that the albums are cohesive, not because they are similar in some readily apparent way, but because they all explore the same central motifs, but each in its own manner. Bastard finds the band shifting farther toward the ambient end of the spectrum. The mixing this time around seems to be more austere, the lone guitar tracks evoking images of desolate railroads and forgotten warehouses. However, one of the most salient features of Bastard is the absence of Matt Finney's voice. Initially, I found the dearth of Finney's warm and familiar intonations to be disheartening, but on repeated listens it seems evident that the integrity of the album was at the forefront of Finney's mind. The tracks on Bastard are very effective as instrumental pieces and it requires a great deal of artistic devotion to put the quality of the album above one's own ego. Make no mistake, Finneyerkes is no one-trick pony. Bastard proves unequivocally that the band possesses a vast musical palette, the beauty of which will only blossom further with future releases. Even so, it is with a bit of sadness that I make my closing remarks regarding this album, knowing that there are presently no more Finneyerkes albums for me to discover. But I am comforted by the fact that a very reliable source stated that there are new songs in the works. In the meantime, you can be certain that I will be revisiting these three albums often. Like the faces of childhood friends, they have seared themselves, indelibly, into my consciousness.

(Bastard is not currently available for download from the band's MySpace page, but you can download the album here. Stay tuned, this Friday (10/2/09), I will be posting my interview with Matt Finney. You don't want to miss it.)

Without End

As I alluded to in my previous post, there is a great deal of continuity between Finneyerkes' three releases. Without End, the second installment in the present trilogy, is a powerful follow-up to the exquisite Gather & Sing, which I sincerely hope you've taken the time to check out. The album opens with the track "Elsie," currently one of my favorite tracks by the band. The immensity of the sound is impressive. Layers of rich guitars envelop the listener, subtly beckoning one to a place that can only be half-imagined, even in dreams. Finney's spoken word is more masterful than ever on this album. His parched and fragile drawl drifts through the ether like the memories of childhood - sweet and irretrievable. There are many poignant moments on Without End - the dense beat on the track "Riopelle," the unexpected, yet welcome forcefulness of "Erna" - and I fully expect that it is many listeners' favorite album by the duo. Without End is as potent a creative statement as you are likely to find this year. It fiercely reaffirms that Finneyerkes is a band that does not fail to deliver.

(Again, Without End is available for free download on the band's MySpace page: http://www.myspace.com/finneyerkes. Regardless of your feelings about post rock or ambient music, the album deserves to be heard. Like the best artists, there is something universal about the emotions Finneyerkes convey through their music.)

Gather & Sing

It was always my intention to have the inaugural post on this blog showcase a band whose music truly excited me. Not the type of general excitement that comes from hearing a song with a good beat or catchy chorus. No, I had my heart set on a band that reminded me of the reasons I love music in the first place. Which leads me to my present offering: Finneyerkes. Finneyerkes is comprised of Matt Finney (spoken word) and Randy Yerkes (instrumentation). Their music is vast and elegant, full of warmth and beauty. Of their three releases, Gather and Sing (whose album art is featured above), is currently my favorite. I say currently because the three albums seem less like discrete works and more like chapters in a book you can't bring yourself to stop reading. Gather and Sing opens with lilting and heartrendingly beautiful guitar work. It is only a couple seconds into the first track when Finney's thoughtful words make their first appearance. Finney is careful and deliberate in his diction. When Yerkes' soundscapes are best left to speak for themselves, Finney allows this, giving the words he does speak added emphasis and import. Finney and Yerkes exhibit true musical cohesion and chemistry. The music would not be nearly as startling and stunning were it not comprised of both members. Gather and Sing is one of the most exciting albums I've listened to in recent memory. So, my challenge to you is this: take your headphones and portable music player and go on a walk at night. Go by yourself and listen to Gather and Sing . . . and try not to be affected. Trust me when I say the odds are against you.

(Gather and Sing is available for free download on Finneyerkes' MySpace page: http://www.myspace.com/finneyerkes. Do something nice for yourself today and check it out.)