Review Summary: A Hail Of Bombs.
Oddly enough,
The Fear Is Excruciating, But Therein Lies the Answer isn't
'the latest album which revives the dying and/or stagnating genre of post-rock.' Nor is it
'the 2010 release that gives creative hope to a lifeless scene normally intent on recycling old ideas.' It's neither
'a sad indictment of the society in which we live' nor
'a disappointing and heartbreaking reflection of the pretentious style's most hackneyed and villified traits.' It doesn't
'reinvent instrumental music before your very eyes' or
'put the final nail in the coffin of a brand which showed so much promise just three/four/five (delete as appropriate) years ago,' and it most certainly doesn't
revolutionise anything. It's plainly and simply f
ucking
momentous.
That's not to say it's perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but this is just impressive post-rock with tonnes of bass and a healthy dose of atmosphere which doesn't really seem to aspire to any pre-existing corner of the circle that is instrumental music. It's got the groove of
Other Truths, albeit more sinister; the distorted, fist-punching riffing of
Sing The Word Hope..., albeit less anthemic; and sections like the end of 'A Swarm' even hold some of the crescendo-based punch of
Hymn To The Immortal Wind, albeit - obviously - less epic. But Red Sparowes have always strayed in a particular direction, one where the dark clouds are forever rolling in and the only release is a violent storm, and
The Fear... is no different in that respect, harbouring a tension throughout which owes itself partly to the brilliant and prominent bass and partly to the band's ability to craft halfway climaxes where other groups demonstrate less gears. 'Giving Birth To Imagined Saviours' contains a 3-minute passage which never truly explodes but is a slow release of energy, and Red Sparowes' knack for knowing when to hold something back is what ultimately gives their third full-length release longevity and intrigue.
It also, however, means that the record has a habit of drifting if you allow it to. The first track is a short introduction capped by a cool descending scale hammered out on the lead guitars but after that the album meanders for a short while, never really finding its feet until around halfway into second track 'In Illusions of Order' unless you truly focus on the droning bass with every last iota of attention. There are a few other less engaging parts, but they tend to be shorter, and really don't disrupt the flow of an album which relies on its structure for a large amount of its impact. It slides - and at times deliberately struggles - through a number of transitions, all of which are submerged in shadows, some just more than others. And its finale is a stellar example of your typical quiet-loud formula, building slowly through static and picked guitars to enormous riffs and dramatic bursts of sound, and then dropping again for that final push. But because of all that came before it and the unique, brooding atmosphere that Red Sparowes can't help but carry, it's the sort of last track which is likely to have you playing the record over just to reach it again.
So where
does Red Sparowes' 2010 gem sit in the vast cosmic arena that is post-rock? In the darkness. If it's just about turning spring where you live, the chances are that
The Fear Is Excruciating, But Therein Lies the Answer won't offer much of a soundtrack to your walk to class or the office; it's hardly apocalyptic in the same way as anything Godspeed! ever released but it sure as hell sounds like thunder and spine-tingling battle cries when it hits its stride. So even though Red Sparowes likely don't give a f
uck about the death of post-rock or whatever's happening this week, they've got their own little corner of a hurricane-hit field marked out. They've trailed their amplifiers up onto the hill and the noises they're making are, if nothing else, f
ucking momentous.
