Review Summary: An on-running set of ideas conveyed with the sleekness of silk, but avoiding the infirmity.4 of 4 thought this review was well writtenBeast Rest Fort Mouth
may very well be the auditory equivalent to having an intimate and personal experience in an immense, capacious field. Jon Philpot capitalizes his airy but passionate voice to heat a small radius inside the expanding landscape. He’s accompanied by Bear in Heaven’s ability to create an engaging electronic melody to lend him not only the buoyancy needed to succeed in this circular, meandering mission, but aid from shoegaze's stimulation to supply a savory aftertaste. The Brooklyn-birthed experiment’s second shot a full-length album is one filled with psychedelic flirting, fluttering yet suggestively frantic basslines, and palpitating drum beats that make common work of the scripted elements in electronic music whether it be the splashy but soft cymbals or merely emphasizing the single strike on the downbeat. Although it will be the sensuous vibrating of the synths or the luscious guidance of the guitars to your king-sized bed of flowers, the rhythm section’s will to divert from simply mapping out the 4/4 measure allows the movements to the chorus (or should I say choruses
) to feel that
As entrusting and sincere Philpot’s voice seems, it also has that spike of pain that works well as an advocate for the listener’s troubles. Like a lawyer for tortured souls, his atmospheric yet substantial voice thickens the drama that works extremely well in tracks like “Lovesick Teenagers”. The song has enough glossy yearning to become a factor in considering the modern heartbreak anthems in today’s experimental rock music. Instead of submerging you in an agitated impression or leading you to step in the dark unwillingly, Bear in Heaven practice a generous amount of impact and let you fill in the gaps yourself, such as in the nearly suspicious lead single, “Wholehearted Mess”. Rather than being an album of one tremendous thought echoed through crescendos and reprises (though both I believe are present), we have an album full of thoughts that are expanded almost endlessly in these under 6-minute tracks. Whether it be “Beast in Peace”, the opener that lends you binoculars into the unfolding territory you’re about to set foot on, or the willowy shapeshifter, “You Do You”.
undoubtedly is a spin on some classic rock and psychedelic acts from the past with the approach more fitting to My Bloody Valentine. There are points throughout where you can see Philpot borrow the desperate canyon wails from Chino in the downtempo respect of Team Sleep or the exercised pitch of Jane’s Addiction’s more ballad-esque hits such as “Mountain Song” or “Jane Says”. There’s even a throwback to a good ol’ waltz near the end of “Dust Cloud”. Ultimately, be prepared to listen to Beast Rest For Mouth
more than once, maybe even consecutively, to gather its full personal attributes and simultaneously witness an on-running set of ideas conveyed with the sleekness of silk, and minus the infirmity.