I've been hard pressed to find much information about either Mouth of the Architect or Kenoma. Normally when I purchase a CD, I get online and read a little about it, read up on the band, read reviews just to see if my opinions line up with anyone else's. Sometimes they do, other times they don't.
But these two bands are quite underground, with nary a website to their names. And part of their appeal is that aura of mystery around them. Very little information can be found about the bands themselves. So all that's left is what you, the individual, the listener, fills in the gaps with. Kind of fun, don't you think?
Personally, the downright epic band name Mouth of the Architect, combined with the psychedelic artwork of the packaging, and the previous knowledge of the band as the ones who introduced to me to what is today likely my favorite genre of music, post rock, drove me to purchasing this record. For you, it may be different.
The thing I love about this is that there's no hype. There's no hubbub or brouhaha. This is a band that plays their music, period. They aren’t musical geniuses or virtuosos. The one thing they have to their names is passion. It's refreshing.
On that note, this CD is quite a departure for MotA. Less brooding and sludgy than their previous album, this 17-minute opus runs a gamut of tones, from ominous build-ups to elegiac flights. Their most varied and dynamic piece, it makes great use of stark contrast between crushing, dense guitar riffs and floating lullaby leads. At times you may feel like death is coming with the howling wind (courtesy of the beautiful sampling by Jason Watkins) while others may bring you to tears with beautiful nostalgia. Hardcore-esque vocals still punctuate the instrumental passages, but they are used to much greater effect here, as the emotion seems to pour out of them. The music moves through several different phases, with several onslaughts of all instruments on eleven woven into quiet, ambient passages and climactic build ups.
Unlike MotA, this split is Kenoma's first release. And a great one it is. While for MotA this disc is a therapeutic statement to whet old and new fans' appetites for their upcoming sophomore full-length, Kenoma have seized this as an opportunity to get their name out there and put all their cards on the table. Kenoma can easily draw comparisons to MotA, Isis, and/or Neurosis, but they're still out there doing their own thing. Just four guys with passion and some instruments.
Kenoma's first song,
The Nature of Empire indeed lives up to its name. It's a building, cascading number that begins with a gentle bass riff and builds into something huge and expansive. It's an octopus lost in that vast, unexplored world we know of as the bottom of the ocean. It's a struggle for life and death. When guitars come in, it's only expected, but still sublime. The octopus moves through unfamiliar territory, each seascape with its own struggles. The landscape evolves slowly, but we relish in its every nuanced movement. Moments of tension-filled dissonance. Finally, when it explodes, we are fulfilled, it is the battle of the octopus. The final build up in Kenoma’s epilogue,
1913 is so climactic and epic that you're likely to get lost in its expansiveness.
A band that's as overwhelmingly intense as it is eloquent, Kenoma's sound relies more heavily on nuances than many bands, while MotA have dropped their usual subtlety, instead focusing on raw emotion. Lacking the vocals, and commanding an overall smoother sound than MotA, Kenoma manage to separate themselves effectively, but overall the split works well and is coherent, as both bands tend to have an elegiac sound.
Again, the reason this music works so well is because it’s damn powerful, and it leaves behind any kind of hype. I've tried to do the same with my review, fully aware that I could compose some kind of lengthy stream-of-consciousness hallucination that this type of music often evokes. Try it for yourself and relish in the purity.
